Cracks at the Edges
by BlueberryQuill
Summary: This used to be known as "The Fifth Marauder". Kora Maver has spent her school life orientating herself around the Marauders. Now, their uneasy policy of ignoring each other is beginning to show cracks in the edges. Whilst Voldemort's rise to power lets school trauma pale in comparison, unity may be the only key to survival. But what can break down years of grudges?
1. But You Love That Spot

**I wish I was JK Rowling, but I'm not. You guys know that. But I feel like I should say it anyway...**

_**This chapter has been edited as of the 2nd of August, just so you know :)**_

**BlueberryQuill**

Kora Maver scowled across the common room, as - a good twenty minutes after the last stragglers had arrived - the Marauders emerged through the portrait hole. They lingered a little too long on the edge, before jumping down in what might have looked passably cool in their minds, but instead gave the impression that they were no more than five.

She curled up even tighter on the red and gold armchair, silently willing them not to notice her - before pulling open her latest read, a tattered copy of Watchmen.

Across the common room, Lily Evans disappeared into a flurry of giggles, surrounded by her ever so slightly tipsy cronies. Still thrilled to pieces that she had been made Head Girl, alongside Remus Lupin, her friends were still looking suitably smug, albeit a little bored. Over the course of the banquet, Lily had thrown the name "James Potter" around enough times that everyone, even the teachers, were pretty sure she had a crush.

Typically, Lily was refusing to admit it - having scowled at and besmirched James Potter's not-so-good name for the six years they had been at Hogwarts - but was refusing to back down from those convictions; true to form, she stood up, and stepped away from her girlfriends, tutting in James' direction. The action had far less conviction than usual, and Kora could hardly blame the other girls for rolling their eyes, sighing and vanishing into their dormitory.

James raised an eyebrow at Lily's reaction, but still seemed gratified, as he took his usual place that the head of the gang. They fell into their usual swagger, as they surveyed the circlets of armchairs looking, presumably, for a set of four chairs where they could sit and plan their reign over the other Gryffindors. Of course, the amount of time they had spent skulking around the Fat Lady, waiting for a time when they could make a suitably grand entrance, had also ensured that there was only one seat left - as far from the fireplaces as were possible.

It was also right next to where Kora had just got herself comfortable against the armrest of her own chair.

It was Pettigrew who reached the empty chair first, plopping himself down before lolling backwards against the plush cushions. Potter, Lupin and Black turned their attention to the adjacent seats in turn, before Lupin and Black satisfied themselves by sitting on the carpets, which were about as soft as the chairs anyway.

"Maver, move."

It was James - of course it was James, it was always James - towering over her. She rolled her eyes, before attempting to make eye contact. She could see right up his nose, which, even on James' typically handsome face, was not an attractive angle.

There had been a time when Kora would have eagerly jumped aside, in favour of her former idol; now, however, she smirked up at him, with as much dignity as she could manage. "Oh, yeah. Maybe I will. And maybe I'll start worshipping the Marauders too, doing whatever the hell they say. That's a good idea, I _don't _think."

Out of sight and earshot of Kora, Sirius smirked to Remus. "Maver gets really cute when she's angry."

"She's got a really hefty kick," retaliated Remus, leafing his way through a dog-eared copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. _"And she knows where it hurts."

James was not prepared to give up. He slumped over the opposite armrest, facing Kora. She sighed and put down her book. "Come on Maver," pushed James. "Just so I can sit with friends?"

"Because I _so_ owe you a favour," Kora groaned. "Because you've done so many kind favours to me over the years."

One chair along, Pettigrew smirked.

"Mind out of the gutter, Pettigrew," Kora warned. "The answer, Potter, is still no."

James sighed theatrically at Kora, before disappearing off the edge of the armrest. Satisfied that he had gone, presumably to terrorise some other chair occupant, Kora curled her legs back to under her chin and reopened her book. The days of Kora being a Marauder, although at the time, they didn't use the pretentious name, and later, the days of her doing whatever the Marauders asked, were long gone. She began to engross herself back into the book's plot, and pulled out her wand so as to see the text and pictures a little better.

Her serenity, however, lasted only seconds, as cautiously, carefully, James snuck round the back and in a second, shoved at the chair. One of the few things that was undeniable about James Potter, was his strength - years of playing Quidditch had left him with lean muscles. The tiny Kora tipped off easily, still curled up, flew a foot across the carpet and landed in a small, sprawled heap. James slumped down into her armchair, victorious.

Dazed, Kora shook her head from side to side, before finding her wand amongst the tangled mess that was now her hair. Standing up in a flash, she was at James' side in a second, her wand thudding neatly into place on his robes. Her cheeks were a violent, flaming, Gryffindor red, although from anger, embarrassment or carpet burn you couldn't tell.

Carefully, she adjusted her wand so that it sat neatly on his prized Gryffindor badge - and the fabric began to smoulder, softly.

James let out a low laugh. "Merlin, Maver... Did you grow, exactly none over the summer?"

Kora let out a low growl, and Sirius snickered behind his hands. Around them, the common room was continuing as normal, oblivious to the minor scene in the far corner. "I know," she said, her voice as sweet and simpering as possible. James could see fleeting images of newly elected Senior Undersecretary for the Ministry of Magic, Ma'am Umbridge, as she spoke - it was a near perfect impression she was pulling off. "Because whenever I have to - Merlin forbid - look at your face, I see right up your nose. Bet you didn't know that less than attractive feature about yourself."

She withdrew her wand into her breast pocket, leaving the gold in James' badge an ugly scorched brown, and turned back to the dormitory.

James sprawled across the armchair, closing his eyes blissfully. "Thanks for the seat, Maver."

As she turned back, her eyes livid, Sirius turned to Remus. "She's got a hefty kick," he quoted. "And she knows where it hurts."

"I hate you, James Potter," shrugged Kora. "But I do honestly hope you enjoy speaking soprano for the next week."

James doubled over, as she flounced off, hissing profanities through his teeth.

"Well," Remus observed dryly, as his friend continued to swear loudly, calling Kora everything from _"cunt" _to "_a veritable monster who deserves to have her head ripped off"_. "We've only been here ten seconds, but I would reckon that's an enemy pretty firmly in place."


	2. Breakfast and a Show

**I am sure that you are under no illusions that I am JK Rowling. As it transpires, I'm not. Which is a pity.**

**This chapter has been edited from the 2nd of August. Just so you know :)**

**BlueberryQuill**

It was still dark when Kora woke up, and for a moment she lay still, savouring the morning silence. A few seconds later, however, and she was up, clumsily feeling her way around her suitcase, and turfing it upside down in her haste to get dressed. It took her at least five attempts to do up her bra strap in the oppressive darkness, and for a good few minutes, she couldn't work out why her oversized uniform wasn't fitting, until she realised that she was trying to squeeze her head into the armhole.

Her robes had been bought with ample amounts of "growing room", but the aforesaid upwards growth spurt had never occurred, leaving her with robes that she was practically drowning in on a daily basis. Over the six years she had spent trying to make them fit, however, she had learned that Shrinking Spells meant that her arms didn't fit through the cuffs - and that a lot more could be done with a few turn-ups of the cuffs, and a lousily sewn hitched hemline.

It was only as she was tying a haphazard knot in her tie, that the first red streaks of dawn began to peek through the window, waking her roommates. By this time, Kora's mouth was full of toothpaste froth, and she was digging around in her hastily packed suitcase, for her hairbrush.

"Wassa time?" mumbled Francisca Fletcher, turning back over into her pillow. Although used to Kora's early morning regime, Fransisca would have paid good money to have lesson times put back an hour or so - and was very much a fan of lying in until the very last minute.

"About half seven?" guessed Kora, still frantically rummaging through her belongings. "Thereabouts. Have you seen my hairbrush?"

Piraveena Pasi stretched out on her bed, clicking out all the joints in her knees, before swinging her feet over the edge of the bed. "It's a bit early in the term to be losing things, isn't it Kora?" she said, her joke marred by the obvious lack of sleep in her voice.

Kora grunted under her breath. "I know I left it here somewhere!"

By the time Piraveena had woken up properly and had forcibly dragged Fransisca from her bed, Kora's things were all over her bed and the surrounding floor. By the time the the pair had showered and dressed themselves, Kora was nearly certain that it was missing.

"Can I borrow yours, Sisca?" she said, eventually, gesturing to the knotted mass that was her hair in the morning, which, unbrushed after her shower seemed intent on drying in as weird a parting as possible. Fransisca was already combing out her long, dark hair with an expensive looking, sphinx bristle brush. She dug out a plastic comb from her cosmetics bag, and hurled it across the room to Kora, who caught it deftly.

"Thanks," she muttered, as she began to pull the worst of the tangles out. By the time she had finished, her hair resembled a porcupine slightly less, instead lying in rat's tails across her shoulders . When she was satisfied that she wouldn't get an immediate detention from the nearest prefect, she pulled it up with an Alice-style bow, and hoped it would dry in a socially acceptable style.

She crouched down next to her unmade bed to grab her sneakers, which were missing. She peered carefully under the bed.

"Have either of you seen my shoes?"

Neither of the other two replied; Piraveena was focused on giving her eyes perfect liquid eyeliner, and Fransisca was immersed in a new Ministry pamphlet warning against giant activity, whilst cleaning her teeth and pulling up her socks. Fransisca's rushed morning regime had left her with a multitude of multi-tasking skills, the aforesaid being one of them.

Kora peered under Piraveena's bed, and then under Fransisca's at the far end of the room, and then back to her suitcase. "I know I left them here!" she said, gesturing to the floor beside her bed. Neither Piraveena nor Fransisca so much as looked her way. There was no sign of a disturbance amongst the rest of her things - at least, no sign of a disturbance that Kora had not created herself.

Piraveena perfected the flick on her second eye. "Come on, we'll be late!"

"And I can't find my trainers!" The idea came to her suddenly, and her eyes lit up. "I know who has got them, as well!" she said softly. "It'll be James Potter."

"Merlin's sake Kora!" huffed Piraveena. "Look for them after breakfast! We're getting our schedules this morning!"

As Kora walked into the Great Hall for breakfast - which had been cooked as only a Hogwarts' breakfast could be made; lashings of ketchup coating the ten varieties of sausage, mounds of warm, buttery toast, eggs - not only chicken, but duck, quail and manticore, the drinks never in danger of cooling - there was a distinct bristle to the air.

Kora barely noticed.

She could see the Marauders laughing at the far end of the Gryffindor table, Remus flicking bits of bacon into the map that Peter was reading.

Sirius glanced over to the map, and then up at Kora. "Uh-oh!" he staged whispered across to James. "Maver's coming over."

Kora seethed at them, marching over - wincing as her feet hit the icy floor - her toes beginning to turn purple on the cold stone. She withdrew her wand and raised it to the Marauders.

"Where have you put my shoes? And my jumper? And my hairbrush?"

Lily turned and looked, and snickered, tossing her perfect auburn hair over her shoulder in distaste. James winked at her, but she was too lost in her smugness to notice. Kora knew that she must look a sight - barefoot, freezing, with wet, scarcely detangled hair flowing down her shoulders. Peter began to smirk.

"It's not funny!" she snapped, her voice breaking, wrapping her arms around her shoulders.

"We couldn't have taken them! Boys can't enter the girls' bedrooms, remember?" James rolled his eyes, speaking like Kora was mentally ill. If they hadn't been in plain sight of the teachers' table, she would have hexed him, or possibly just punched him in the nose. She briefly debated how she could go about doing it undercover, and came up with nothing.

"Please!" she said, her voice softer now - on the verge of begging. "My feet really, _really _hurt!"

Sirius and Remus bit their lips and turned to each other, a little uncertain, but Kora was too desperate to notice.

"Oh come on!" chortled Peter. "You're a _girl!_ You have to have more than one pair of shoes…"

Kora's breath came out shakily, with cold and with pure, unbridled anger. "I don't, okay! I really don't! I'm sorry! I know you have them. I'm sure you have them. I want them back. It's bloody freezing!"

"Language, Miss Maver." All of Gryffindor table turned to look as Professor McGonnagall materialised behind Kora. She towered over her, like an barn owl over the white mouse it was about to devour. Her stony gaze fixed itself on Kora, then James, and then the rest of the Marauders; all of whom cringed back a little. "And may I ask why you have chosen to come to breakfast in such a state?"

"Never mind," Kora's voice was very small.

Sirius turned to Peter, who shrugged. Kora would have been well within her rights to have told the whole sorry affair, as the victim. Her silence was truly Gryffindor, but to the point of pure idiocy.

McGonnagall looked back along the students. "Fine, Maver. Detention." The smirks had vanished from the Marauder's faces. The entire hall was hushed, aside from the new first years who were attacking their plates with as much vigour as before. "Twenty points from Gryffindor. I expected a better start to the year - " Kora nodded, biting her lips. "From all of you."

Fransisca scooted over, giving Kora the seat beside her, and Kora eagerly sank into it, as though she could think of nothing better than to let the floor swallow her alive. Fransisca smiled, and passed her a slice of toast, which Kora tore apart with her fingers.

"Back for another year at Hogwarts, huh?" Fransisca joked, flatly. "You can really tell that you are back when you've just got 20 points docked from your house."

Kora flopped forward, pressing her fingers on the table, and then burying her head in her hands. Fransisca glared along at the Marauders.

Around the Great Hall, normal life was resuming. There were the Ravenclaws, hushed on their table - a few of them combing through potions magazines and filling out order forms for ingredients, the Slytherins - ranging from decent and determined to the Death Eater recruits Avery and Mulciber, and well as the weird friend of Lily's - Severus "Slimy" Snape. Urban legend, spread mostly by the Ravenclaws, was that Lily Evans had touched his hair, and he had never washed it since - although half of what went around was utter puffskein slobber. The Hufflepuff table was full of the usual - athletic boys and dedicated girls, who were generally a gaggle of high spirited students. The Hufflepuffs seemed the least tetchy in the atmosphere.

"Quidditch trials are later this week – you trying out?" Sisca asked, flattening oats on the back of her spoon. She shovelled a generous helping into her mouth, and grimaced in distaste. Piraveena rolled her eyes at her friend, and passed the brown sugar along.

Kora looked up in surprise. The idea hadn't even crossed her mind. She sat up, slowly and poured herself a glass of pumpkin juice. "James Potter is Captain, right?" she asked quietly.

Fransisca nodded, and Kora sighed, shaking her head.

"You would make a good Seeker," Piraveena coaxed. "And Dirk Cresswell can't play again this year - he's so tall now. And I heard he was going for Keeper anyway!"

"He is," said Kora. "His name is already down on the team, they tried him out last season."

Fransisca looked down at her friend. "Well then! You're practically guaranteed a place on this year's team. It's your last go. Why on earth wouldn't you?"

"James," Kora sighed. Fransisca threw her hands up in frustration.

"Yeah but…"

"James."

She opened her mouth again, but Kora cut across before she could talk. "Please don't make me say it again..." Piraveena smiled sympathetically at the pair of them, before passing the second bowl of sugar across to Fransisca, who had finished the first. "Besides," said Kora, a little more alert and less melancholy. "It's NEWT year. I need to focus on my studies."

"Aww come on," said Piraveena. "The only ones who study are the Ravenclaws! Literally!"

Once again, McGonnagall appeared at the head of the table, and Kora vanished back into her arms, her cheeks flushing a hot pink. "Well, Miss Pasi," said McGonnagall dryly. "I do hope that your NEWT grades will improve upon your OWLs, which were mediocre at best." Piraveena turned much the same colour as Kora, and she pressed her fingers to her temples as she looked determinedly ahead. "Your timetables!" the teacher said, a little more sharply than usual; as the white sheets of paper fluttered around, desperate to find their owners.

Kora's flittered around, spotted her, before promptly landing in Fransisca's porridge bowl. Fransisca gingerly picked it out, shook her friend back into sitting position and handed the remains of the document to her.

_"Tergeo,"_ muttered Kora, as the remains of the porridge vanished. She squinted at the blurred writing.

_Care of Magical Creatures, with Professor Kettleburn._

A small, but incredibly genuine smile lit up her features. Being outside, free from most of the students that sought to make her daily life a misery, was the best possible start to a dismal term, that she could have asked for. It was hardly a popular choice - in fact, according to the Ravenclaw gossip, there were only two people taking it. Some students were scared of Kettleburn, who was currently on his 56th period of probation, and had less remaining limbs than chances left before being fired from the school. Most, however, just believed the subject to be of very little interest, or usefulness.

Kora stood up, gasping as her toes touched the cold ground again, and grinned at Fransisca, who smiled back in relief - before engrossing herself in a conversation with Piraveena.

"Thanks guys," she said softly, to the two girls, before vanishing from the Hall.


	3. Bonus Chapter - Ravenclaw Grapevine

**This chapter was a one shot written in a very different style, but of what would turn out to be pretty much the same story. I've decided to put it in, but it remains nothing more than a _Bonus Chapter._**

**BlueberryQuill**

You would have thought that the Ravenclaw house would have been the least prone to idle gossip. After all, when you put us up against the melodramatic Gryffindors and those conniving Slytherins, how interested could we really be in the rest of the schools' shenanigans?

But, oh the contrary.

The only thing we loved more than decaffeinated tea and a nice pop-quiz was a good, old-fashioned ego-boost.

So, naturally, when little Sarah Crosby spotted Kora 'I'm-not-a-tomboy' Tomboy Maver's shoes strung from the inner-workings of the clock tower she couldn't wait to announce that we were about to be privy to dinner - or rather breakfast - and a show. And when that same Kora marched in; hair dishevelled, face furious and—you guessed it—barefoot, Sarah could do nothing but take a victory sip of pumpkin juice and let us marvel how she could have possibly deduced that from a pair of astray converse.

"But how did you know they were hers?" asked an awed Todd Lightfoot, one of only five new first years. It seemed that less and less made the cut each year. Of course, mid-war, more and more people were sending their children abroad or evacuating the country altogether.

"Her name was written on the soles…duh!" Sarah, with a flick of her hair, got up and marched down to the end to join the rest of the third years.

"The third years, they really think they're all that. Don't they?" Lysandra picked through her magazine, Brews unBottled; decoding confusing cordials, circling various items with a fat marker pen. Her demolished breakfast lay in front of her; only the first years were still eating. They hadn't yet shaken off their 'everything-is-so-new-so-I've-got-to-take-it-in-as -quickly-as-possible-itis'. Todd, who looked positively ill, was still trying to work his way through the entire range of food. I gave him one more waffle until he actually threw up.

"Just because they can go to Hogsmeade now, they think they're the bees' knees. Speaking of which," I said pointing to one of the items on her catalogue page, "Bees' knees are a potion ingredient? What?"

"Yeah," she said, drawing a thick line round the black and yellow bottle. "How they actually collect them I don't know. Bees do have very small legs," she noted. I couldn't help but agree. "They're used in confidence potions."

"Confidence potions, aren't they a bit redundant? Surely three shots of firewhisky would do the same job?"

"No hangover." Lysandra pointed out.

"Fair enough."

"Shut it, you lot! I've got an announcement." Mr No-Crap Carden growled in his Scottish burr from the head of the table, interrupting the buzz of conversation, loud enough that even the third-years quietened. Even Todd paused, his spoon midway to his already full mouth. Carden flicked his wand, distributing timetables out to the various students.

Mr Carden was, by far, my favourite teacher. He was also the last person you'd expect to be heading Ravenclaw house. Instead of the studious, quiet book-worm most expected, he was an obnoxious, fat man with an abnormal amount of different coloured tartan bow-ties. If you got a question right in class he threw you a Liquorice Snap, but, then again, he did the same if you answered wrong. I suppose it depended on your catching skills whether that was a reward or punishment.

In the kerfuffle to grap our timetables before they landed in the milk bowls, nobody noticed Maver creep out.


	4. A Small Walking Box

**I'm not JK Rowling. She's cool though. I think we all wish we were her.**

**As of the 2nd of August 2013, this chapter has been edited for content and style and all that jazz. Just so you know x**

**BlueberryQuill**

Kora's eyes flicked absentmindedly over the turnout for Care of Magical Creatures. Since Lord Voldemort had risen to power, the amount of people interested in doing Defense Against the Dark Arts had skyrocketed, leaving more niche subjects like Divination and Arithmancy with a lack of students. However, whilst Kora was really struggling to see what the fraudulent Trelawney or the snobbish Vector could teach her that could feasibly help kill the Dark Lord, Care of Magical Creatures seemed plain logical. The reports were everywhere - he was using dragons, he was using giants, he was using dementors, thestrals, augureys, trolls, goblins...

It seemed only her, Lysandra Kemery and Thomas Boot, both Ravenclaws who were taking at least seven NEWTS, had recognised this. However, as the two of them were avidly debating the existence of Blibbering Humdingers, something Kemery had sworn were real her entire life, and were thus completely ignoring Kora, it was looking to a be a bit of a lonely term.

"Shut up you lot!" bellowed Kettleburn as he limped over the hill. Limped was being used very loosely, on the two thirds of a leg he had left - it was more of a staggering hop, which teetered dangerously with every step. Over the summer, he had evidently lost the rest of his right arm, because the one that clutched his notebook was a bright silver. Kora had always wondered exactly what he did that was so dangerous, what creatures he worked with - but had never thought to ask.

"Sorry Mr Kettleburn," blurted Thomas, as he dropped his books in surprise.

"Silvanus will do just fine, Mr Boot. Put away your books, you won't be needing them. Unlike the last namby-pamby wishy-washy but supposedly crucial to the curriculum textbook nonsense we endured last year, this year we focus almost entirely on the practical."

Kora grinned, in spite of herself. The last year - with only five students - had not been her best; the huge quantities of textbooks had bored her so much that she had nearly dropped the subject. This year, she could shine. _Or at least,_ she thought, as she watched Thomas produce a notebook and quill, and begin to jott down every word that Kettleburn said, _Keep up with the_ others.

"Today," he continued. "We will be looking at the _mackled malacaw_. Who can tell me something about this strange coastal creature?"

Thom's hand flew eagerly into the air. At a super fast pace, he began to recite what Kora could only assume had been copied word for word from _Creatures of the Coastlines_, it was so formal. She had read the volume, of course, over the summer - but it had been heavy and dry and mostly pretentious bullshit about a wizard's dangerous trek through the oh-so-terrifying French Riviera.

"The Mackled Malaclaw is a land creature closely resembling a lobster. The Malaclaw has light grey skin with green spots, and can reach a length of twelve inches. Although it resembles a lobster, it is unfit to eat, and anyone who eats flesh of a Malaclaw will come down with a nasty fever and develop a green Malaclaw is found along the rocky coastline of Europe and dines mainly on crustaceans. A bite from a Malaclaw has the unusual side effect of making the victim unlucky for up to a week. Any witch or wizard bitten by a Malaclaw should call off all bets, wagers and ventures since they will definitely go against him." He took a deep breath, after his abnormally long sentence. "Or her," he tacked on as an afterthought, looking over at Kora and Lysandra.

"Well, someone's keen!" smirked Kettleburn, before seeing the crestfallen expression on Boot's face. "I mean uh - very good, Mr Boot. Take ten points for Ravenclaw. Yes, so we are going to have to be very careful when holding them, I suppose. We're just going to be checking them for any kind of disease or injury, such as wet tail, ringworm or possibly Spanish influenza. Maver, go grab the crate. They're down by Hagrid's hut."

Kora was greatful that it wasn't later in the year - but the dew and mud oozed rather unpleasantly over her bare feet. The crate was bigger than she imagined - almost so big she couldn't see over the top. Considering all she had to do was walk in a straight line she picked it up and began to stumble back in the right direction. The journey would have been made a lot easier if the malaclaws inside had not been violently lurching and clattering; making her jump with every sudden movement.

"I say!" said a familiar voice. "A walking box with legs that small? Whatever will they study next in Care of Magical Creatures?"

"Shut up!" groaned Kora. "Haven't you had enough fun ridiculing me over breakfast? Shouldn't you be in class or something?"

"Got a free period, haven't I, Maver?" He dropped back so she could see him, but she looked determinedly away. "Oh, come on, the back of that box can't be that interesting!"

Begrudgingly, she lifted her gaze. "Why are you even here, Black?"

"Black? Merlin, that's formal!" Sirius snickered, shaking his head at her.

She looked back at him indignantly. "And you've called me Maver since fourth year!"

"Maver's a cool surname!"

"You haven't answered my question, Black," she said, more impatiently. She'd been back all of two seconds, looking forward to time away from home, and so far the Marauder's had made her first two days hell.

"I came to admire the scenery, and the um...firecrabs you have in that crate there. Or are they dragons?"

"They're _malaclaws._" Kora rolled her eyes, slowing her brisk march back to a more amicably stroll. "Be serious."

Sirius let out a short whoop of laughter. "You want me to be serious? Well, it's a good thing you came to - " he clicked his fingers - "Sirius Black!"

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" exclaimed Kora, shaking her head in despair but grinning in spite of herself. "That joke wore thin in second year!"

"Sirius-ly, though," smiled Sirius, "I'm here, gate-crashing this incredibly popular, amazing class because I may or may not know where your trainers are."

Kora wanted to scowl at him, but for the squelching mud under her feet, she couldn't stop smiling in relief. "And would that be because you are the miscreant that put them there in the first place?"

"Maybe..." he said. "But I didn't count on you having no other goddamn shoes!"

"So where are they?" she said, and looked away from the box, back to him. "Is it worth me going to get them before Defense Against the Dark Arts? Are they both in the same place? What did - "

"Whoah! Patience, grasshopper."

"You watch muggle television?" asked Kora, as they walked over the hill.

"Might have come up in muggle studies at OWL..."

"So what are you doing at NEWT - "

"Miss Maver!" the grating voice of Professor Kettleburn snapped over her conversation. "I must remind you that this class is not a time to hang out with your friends."

"Oh, we're not friends!" cut in Kora. Sirius tried to arrange his featured so they didn't look so crestfallen at her snappy reply.

"It's very amusing, Miss Maver, but you speak as though I care!" snarled the elder man, his eyes glossing over Sirius as though he were not there. "Now, miss Kemery, if you could open the crate, we're going to do a medical check of the malaclaws."

The box opened surprisingly easily, revealing three, rather ugly crustacean-like creatures in a nest of seaweed, pebbles and a repulsive clear goo. Green and grey mottled, they clambered around in their home, occasionally beating each other over the head with over sized pincers. Kora wrinkled her nose in distaste, despite herself.

"Pick them up gently - no, not like that Thomas!" said Kettleburn, as Thom grasped his malaclaw by the tail. Kora bent down, and scooped one up under the belly, cradling it against her chest like a pet cat or dog. It immediately pinched at her hair, leaving a strand of seaweed nestled there. "Very nice, Miss Maver."

"They're disgusting!" blurted Sirius, and Kettleburn and Lysandra looked at him accusingly. Kora looked around, and then scowled back at the malaclaw, who was becoming increasingly interested in her face, Thom was still wrestling with his ugly new pet, swinging it inadvertently by the tail.

"They are one of the most important creatures, as far as potions ingredients go!" gasped an affronted Lysandra. Even Thom rolled his eyes at that - Lysandra was well known for surpassing usual nerdiness as far as Potions was concerned. Kora had to admire her dedication.

"You're that Black kid, aren't you," sneered Kettleburn, wrinkling his nose with obvious distaste. "Regulus?"

"Sirius", Sirius gritted his teeth as he spoke. He and his brother looked so similar that this was a common reaction - half of the time, teachers seemed disappointed to learn that they were speaking to the old Black child, the other times they seemed very relieved. Kettleburn's gaze softened a little as he surveyed Sirius.

"Well, Sirius, it seems you might benefit from watching Miss Maver. Seems you might have a thing or two to learn."

Kora groaned. "Oh for Merlin's sake!" she whispered, as soon as Kettleburn was out of earshot. "Now I'm stuck with you all morning!"


	5. Marauders and Malaclaws

**I'm not JK Rowling - do I really have to confirm this every chapter? If you're this far, I'm assuming you've already read the first few, in which I let you know that I wasn't.**

_**As before, this chapter was edited on the 2nd of August 2013 for style and content and all those types of things, so you may want to re-read it. Just so you know!**_

_**BlueberryQuill**_

Sirius looked slightly wounded. "You say that like it's a bad thing!" he said, putting down his school bag and walking over to where she was prizing the lobster-monster off her face.

Kora looked at him, rather pityingly. Sirius had never felt less macho or adult as he did in her gaze - she made him feel like he was a child - despite the fact that he had to peer down to make any sort of eye contact. _You just don't get it, do you? _shrieked her perfect, vivid green eyes. "Says the boy who stole my shoes. On the first day, I might add."

Sirius was struggling to think of a witty comeback as he looked at her face, into her accusatory eyes - but the malaclaw provided the helpful distraction of squirming in her arms.

"Oh!" she gasped, as it began to clamber over her shirt, dampening it and making it stick her her, as well as covering it with it's unspeakable slime. Under her hair, she was already freezing, and her toes were a startling shade of blue. "You're right," she said, as it tried to sit on her neck. "They aren't the nicest..."

"I know I'm right," said Sirius, regaining a little of his composure. "I usually am."

He quailed again, as she looked at him thoughtfully. "You're much, much nicer when you're not being a dick."

"That," Sirius said, chuckling softly, "Is one of the best, but most obvious things to tell someone." Sirius was not unattractive at any time - he had been blessed with brains, good-looks and athletic physique - but Kora couldn't help but note that he was a lot more attractive when he was smiling his boyish half smile, and not sneering along with James, Peter and Remus. "So, these things? What do they do?" he asked, snapping Kora out of her slight daze.

"Not much..." said Kora, and then she too snorted softly with laughter. "Oh, you kill them, and use them in Potions."

"So they're not dangerous?" he said, looking a little concerned. The ugly creature was clambering over Kora's face. She prized it off, leg by leg with a look of disgust as the monster left a trail of goo across her cheeks.

"No, don't go worrying your pretty little head that's it's going to eat you. I mean, if _you_ eat _them_, you get a bit ill. Muggles do it all the time, and then blame it on dodgy seafood. With lobster, it's usual a malaclaw they've eaten. Hold this - it - for a second?"

Before Sirius could answer, she shoved the malaclaw into his arms, and dodged away before he could hurl it back at her. Kettleburn looked over at the pair of them, noted that Sirius was in fact holding the malaclaw, and nodded approvingly. "Eww," whined Sirius, as the monstrosity began to amble over his arms. "Take it back."

Without answering, Kora jogged over to where Sirius' schoolbag and jumper lay slouched on the ground. She picked up the jumper, and wiped the majority of the goo off from her face, onto it. The jumped smelled of pumpkin juice and wood varnish, and Kora found herself wanting to take another sniff; before she shook herself and threw it back on the ground.

"Oi!" he said. "That's new."

His protestations were ignored, as she used a cleaning spell on her shirt, which wiped the slime off but left her soaking wet. "No offense, Black, but I am so sure you can afford another one."

"No need to ruin it!"

"It'll wash out," she assured him. "Look!" she quickly cleansed off his jumper, before hurling it back onto his schoolbag. "How are you and ugly getting on?"

"What? The lobster's fine. Gross though."

"I was talking to the malaclaw."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Ha ha," he said, as sarky as possible. "Seriously, Maver. But why are these things XXX rated by the Ministry? If we don't eat them, they're harmless, right?"

"Not quite," shrugged Kora, standing back, and watching as Sirius wrestled with the monster. "If they bite, you have the side effects of being unlucky for a week."

_"Unluck-"_ began Sirius, but as Kora watched, the malaclaw opened a jaw that Kora had not previously noticed existed. If you had asked her prior to that, she would have easily assumed that its head was in fact its tail.

"Oh my god!" she cursed, diving towards him and snatching the malaclaw away. "Don't let it bite you now, for god's sake!"

She juggled it back into her arms, and pinned it firmly against her chest. Sirius tried not to look where her shirt was still sticking to her, feeling suddenly awkward. Because Kora's uniform had always completely swamped her, he had never really noticed her grow up - and become more feminine. He knew to avert his eyes though - Kora was definitely not the sort of girl that would put up with being someone's eye candy. She was practically the embodiment of "size is no guarantee of power".

It was at this moment, that Professor Kettleburn walked over to them. "So, Mr Black, are you learning things in this lesson? Which you are not meant to be a part of?" His tone and face were both the embodiment of "_get lost". _Sirius did not so much as flinch.

"Yes," said Sirius, in his meek, goody-two-shoes student voice. _I am learning things, _he thought. _More about Maver than malaclaws..._

"And Miss Maver? Have you checked the malaclaw for symptoms?"

"Yes," said Kora, in her meek, goody-two-shoes student voice. _Symptoms? _she thought. _I'll look them up tonight._

_"_Professor!" shouted Thom across the clearing. "This malaclaw has explosive diarrhea!"

Both Kora and Professor Kettleburn turned immediately, Kettleburn's full of curiousity and Kora's scrunched up in disgust. Sirius wrenched his face away from the pair of them, to malaclaw squirming against Kora's chest.

"Oh Merlin!" he groaned, as the malaclaw opened his jaw, and sank long pincers into the space just above her collarbone.

"Shit!" Kora shrieked, as blood began to trickle down her uniform. "I only own two shirts!"

Professor Kettleburn looked over at her, immediately assessed what had happened, and shrugged, moving over to Thom. This was, apparently, an expected part of class. Kora wasn't that surprised. In their first ever lesson, when the class had been prowling the Great Lake in search of Ramora, four boats had been anchored into place, by the reclusive creature, and all of the occupants had had to swim to the shore. Kettleburn had never approved of pandering to the students, to the point of pure recklessness. Hence, the periods of probation.

"Have a good week, Maver," said Sirius jokingly. Kora looked at him with desperation and disgust. All of the friendliness the two had exchanged during the lesson had vanished. Sirius took a step back.

"You complete _arse_! If you had just let me alone in my lessons, this wouldn't have happened! I don't prowl around your Divination classroom and make your predictions go wrong every other second. I don't throw crystal ball at your head or something!"

"I thought I was doing you a favour!"

"Well don't!" she ranted, her voice cracking in frustration. "If you had just stayed with your best buddies, nicking people's clothes out of their rooms, then I would have been fine. If you had fucking not been here, then I wouldn't have to have saved your worthless arse from fucking malaclaws! Merlin! You act so holier than thou, coming to tell me where my shoes are - which wouldn't have been a problem if you hadn't summoned them from my dormitory!"

She stormed over to the crate, and smashed the malaclaw down into it. The malaclaw didn't look so bothered.

"Thank you, Professor Kettleburn!" she hollered, before grabbing her satchel and swinging it violently over her shoulder. Her books cascaded out the open flap. Sirius bent down to help her, but as Kora looked like she was about a second away from using the _avada kedavra_, he backed off.

Gripping his wand tightly, ready to use a shield charm at any second, he waited until she had deposited her copy of _Creatures of the Coastlines _back into her bag, until he spoke again. "Your shoes are hanging from the clock tower."

Kora both pursed her lips, and gritted her teeth, as she looked back at him. "And my broom's off for repairs. Thanks. Really, great. I am so glad that you decided to make my life easy for me. Send my love to the fucking Marauders." She began to pace as quickly as she could back to the castle.

"What do you have next, anyway?" he called after her, carefully, not releasing the grip on his wand.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Ridley." It was Thom that answered, beside him. Sirius jumped. "She has Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Sirius looked at him, and raised an eyebrow. Had Thom already memorised everybody's timetables? That was going above and beyond the call of duty - he wasn't sure if McGonnagall knew Kora's timetable. "Oh, thanks," he said awkwardly. "Me too!"

"Just my luck..." she seethed from ahead, and it was only that they had walked into plain sight of the first year Quidditch class, and the eagle eyes of Madame Hooch, that he didn't laugh at the irony in her sentence.


	6. Used to be Different

**I think it's reasonably obvious that I don't own Harry Potter...**

_**You know what would make me really happy?**_ **Reviews.**

**This chapter has been edited as of the 2nd of August, because information is power, and I thought you should know.**

**BlueberryQuill**

Kora might have been about a foot shorter than Sirius, but, as she ran up to the castle, he had to admit she was fast. Fast with stamina, he amended, when, he saw two minutes later that she was still running full pelt. Most of the girls that Sirius knew of their age were conservative - wouldn't so much as jog for class. He had to appreciate that Kora was going above and beyond the call of duty, and would have given her some respect - if he wasn't nearly sure that she was also trying to avoid him.

Sirius was confused. More than a little bit. Before the Marauders, there had just been the friends. Originally James and Sirius, but it had taken all of a few minutes for Kora to be invited in.

_"Come on Severus!" Lily Evans snapped, sneering at James and pulling an Snape to standing. "Let's go find a nicer place to sit."_

_With that, they shoved and slammed their way out of the compartment, nearly knocking over a small girl who walked past. The girl brushed herself off and stood on tiptoes, peering carefully through the glass. It had been James that had beckoned for her to come in, Sirius who had slid open the door for her. They had both invited her into their little friendship group._

Sirius wondered if that had been in some way symbolic, although at the time it hadn't felt it. It had seemed the most natural thing in the world to invite her in, to share their Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans and to whoop as she was sorted into Gryffindor, alongside him and James.

It had been Peter Pettigrew next who had joined the little troop, a roundish boy who they had met in the boys' dormitory. Remus Lupin had been the last, who they had eventually taken pity on after half a term of watching him skulk and mope - and had quickly realised that he wasn't such bad fun after all. There hadn't been a more close-knit clique in the school. James had dragged them all up for Quidditch practise, and realised that actually, Kora and Sirius weren't bad at all, and that Kora was really deft at catching the items that flew her way. Kora had introduced them to Marvel and DC comics, and Peter had really got into the Iron Man series. Peter himself had begun to teach them baking - and Remus had turned out to be a whizz at pretty much anything they threw at him.

Looking at Kora normally, Sirius could easily identify her as older than the child, as more mature - as less adorable and more plain pretty; but from the back, swamped in her school uniform, she still looked like the tiny first year that had sat with them on the train. He knew she couldn't look quite as boyish now - hadn't he just seen her figure under drenched uniform - and now it was nothing but strange to him, how they had treated her come fourth year.

_Sirius sat alone on the platform, while his parents fawned over his younger brother a hundred metres along. Kora's parents weren't exactly comfortable in the magical world, in fact, they all but despised it and treated it as a chore; and so it was for her he waited. It had been James that arrived first though, with doting parents in tow, followed by Remus and his father, and Pettigrew with his parents. The train was already gushing smoke by the time Kora ran haphazardly onto the platform._

_James let out a wolf whistle, and his parents looked at each other and shook their heads. Kora's head turned instinctively to the sound, and when she saw who had made it, raised one eyebrow, and had laughed. Sirius felt so envious of her ability to raise an eyebrow._

_"Oops, oh, it's only you Kora!"_

_They all boarded the train, and Remus, Peter and James had all waved their parents goodbye out the window, while Sirius looked at Kora - who was fiddling with a golden snitch - a habit which James would later pick up. She was wearing regular muggle clothes, nothing provocative or in any way particularly sexy. In fact, Sirius wasn't sure that she hadn't worn the same clothes the year before. It had been a simple band tshirt, from a band called _Queen _which he had never heard of, a simple skirt which had loosely fallen midway down her thighs._

_But there was something distinctly feminine about Kora, which was hard to put a finger on. The smallness of her waist, perhaps, as accentuated by the skirt, or just the fact that Sirius, James and Peter had all grown about six inches over the summer, and now towered over her - making her seem small, and delicate._

_"So," coughed James, leaning back inside the glass. "When did you become such a girl?"_

_Kora looked around them, watched their curious faces. Her face was the picture of confusion. "What do you mean?" she asked, lightly, curiously. "I've always worn skirts."_

It had been James that had started the bitching behind her back, had added fuel to the flames of "she's changed". It had taken all of a term, after they discovered that they couldn't enter her dormitory, for her to stop visiting theirs. Sirius looked back on himself, and was baffled. The obvious nature of their circumstances had hit him three years too late. It was so clear how little Kora had barely changed - but how, one day they had decided that she was different. And so she had become so.

The next year had been the scariest, the one that had made Sirius feel the most uncomfortable.

_"I don't get why we're not friends anymore!" Kora exclaimed one day, as Peter had flicked ink over her essay, ruining the two hours of work she had just spent on it. "Is there anything that I could do to have another chance?"_

Sirius balked, almost gagged, even as he walked through the front gate of the castle. He felt so horrified as he briefly analysed what the younger Kora had said. She had thought - maybe still thought? - that their split had been her fault. That she had been in the wrong?

He looked at the small girl, who was now pacing the corridors as quickly as she could, but was being swept aside by the sheer mass of students.

"_Sure, you can have another chance," laughed James, teasingly, as Sirius, Peter and Remus smirked behind him. "Could you carry my books to class?"_

The tasks they had set had started out fairly innocently, carrying books and cleaning cauldrons, progressing to writing entire essays which had kept her up until dawn until finally -

"_Sure, you can have another chance," laughed James, teasingly, as Sirius, Peter and Remus smirked behind him. "If you'll go out with me."_

_"What?" Kora looked at him, obviously confused. "I thought you liked Lily?"_

_"Sure, I do. But let's see how much you value this friendship."_

_He had bent down, encircled her in his muscular, Quidditch playing arms, effectively trapping her entirely, and had kissed her full on the mouth. The second Kora could breathe, she wriggled her way aside, and slapped him round the face._

_Sirius laughed at her, as she stumbled away, looking at James not with idol-ism or hopefulness, but with anger and hatred, and Remus and Peter had joined in, a beat later. _

_"Oh, and Kora?" She turned back, looked back at them, confused. "Don't tell Evans, will you?"_

_She had looked at him, glared at him, looked at them all with utter revulsion and disgust. "You think I would? You think I'm _proud _of what just happened?"_

_And she had vanished._

She hadn't spoken to them properly since, although their taunts and jeers had followed her all the way up until now, until seventh year; sometimes worse than things they had said to Snape. Sometimes Sirius had known that they had had to be worse to Kora, had had to make more fun of her - because that was easier than admitting that maybe they had been arseholes.

He watched as finally, she pushed her way through the Defense Against the Dark Arts room door, and slumped against the wall at the back, Sirius following still. The desperation in her eyes now, the foul luck there, that he could see did nothing but remind him of that last night where it had all broken down.


	7. Muggle Sports

**Everyone I know knows I'm not JK Rowling. Do you? I'm not :)**

**This chapter, like all of those before it, has been edited as of the 2nd of August, 2013.**

**BlueberryQuill**

"Thank you for arriving, Miss Maver. Five minutes late, I might add." Professor Ridley's eyes glossed over Sirius, without noticing him. Sirius breathed a sigh of relief at not getting caught, but could only imagine that this was Kora's luck coming into play. Kora murmured an apology, and stood back against the wall, her small figure vanishing into the shadows where the rest of the class were now standing.

"What's going on?" Sirius muttered to Peter, who jumped a little at his friend's voice so close to his ear.

"Seating plan."

It took all of a few seconds for the class to certify that the new professor, Professor Ridley, was a stickler for law and order. He began by quickly pacing around his form room, tidying up the chairs where the previous class had tucked them in at a slightly wonky angle, before turning to face the new recruits. The first row was made up entirely of volunteers, mainly Ravenclaws for the sake of gaining more classroom knowledge, with the remainder of the seats fill with Hufflepuffs, who had worked out that if you volunteered, you could sit amongst friends. The raucous Gryffindors and sly Slytherins were under no delusion that they wanted the teacher to see any of their goings on.

"Alright," said Professor Ridley. He was a tall man, with crinkly eyes and wavy brown hair. Kora was instantly reminded of her mother's Simon and Garfunkel records, although whether he represented Simon or Garfunkel, she couldn't say, nor cared enough to remember. He spoke with a rich, almost creamy voice, that boasted of years of study. Sirius hazarded a guess that he had been a Ravenclaw.

"So, Mr Snape, we'll sit you here." He gestured towards a seat by the window. "Miss Maver can join you here, and Mr Potter, if you could take the adjacent seat. Mr Tarpeius, if you could be so kind," as he sat a kindly looking Hufflepuff down next to James, "Miss Turner," completing the row.

Severus "Slimy" Snape looked distastefully at Kora, and went back to perusing his hefty copy of _Defense Against the Darkest Magic, _although if given a guess, Kora would have assumed he was more into learning the dark magic in the book, as opposed to learning to defend himself from it. James turned immediately to Oscar Tarpeius, who he had never before so much as given the time of day to, and struck up a conversation. She buried her head in her hands.

The third row was also filled quickly. "Remus Lupin, please, and Mr Black, here, if you don't mind."

Sirius took the seat directly behind Kora, who turned around, groaned in exasperation, and then began rummaging in her satchel.

"Glad I'm with you!" Remus leant across, and they quickly high-fived. "Where were you for free period?"

"Just around the Forbidden Forest, and all that," said Sirius quickly, ignoring the guilty flush that turned both his cheeks and - although he could not see it - the eavesdropping Kora on the second row's cheeks a violent red. "Nothing special!" Remus looked knowingly at his friend, and smiled - guessing which student Sirius had been visiting in the Care of Magical Creatures class.

By this time, Professor Ridley had decided that the rows were perfectly symmetical, that he could see everybody and that there was an even enough balance of house ties everywhere. Satisfied also, that no troublemaking friends were free to scheme together, he turned to the class.

"Today will be a practical lesson," he began, in his knowledgeable, quiet voice. "But I just wish to check you have your textbooks."

There was a general flurry of pages, as everyone began to look through their school bag for the books, simultaneously stowing their parchment and quills away for another lesson. The entire mood of the class lifted, as well - practical lessons were always far, far more interesting.

"No, it's quite all right. Let's just pick a few names at random..."

_Please, not me! _thought Kora desperately. _I must have dropped it with my stuff for the Malaclaw practice! _She continued to grabble through her bag, and could find - to be fair, very little in it at all.

"Dava Sobel?" Dava lifted her book up for him to see, and then, clumsily, dropped it back on the table. Professor Ridley winced at the noise. "Very good. Oliver James? Well done. Kora Mah-ver?"

"It's Maver," Sirius automatically corrected. James, Remus and even Kora turned and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry," began Kora, regaining her senses. "I must have dropped it with my things at Care of Magical Creatures."

Ridley's kind, crinkly eyes turned steely and stony once again, as he looked at her. "Normally, I would let you off, considering that it is in fact your second lesson of your first day. But this is in fact, your second offense, already. So, ten points from Gryffindor, and I'll see you in detention tonight."

That seemed a bit harsh to all of them, all the Gryffindors sighed and the Slytherins grinned - but to Sirius, this seemed particularly unfair. He doubted though, that Kora wanted any sort of help from him now, and the Marauder's wouldn't appreciate it either. After all this time, he couldn't be going soft for Maver, the girl who had made it incredibly clear that she wanted nothing to do with the Marauders.

"And, Miss Maver, I'm sure you can help us with this little demonstration. Down the front please, you won't need your wand. Today, class," he said, addressing the room in general. "We will not be using magic. Instead we will focus on a discipline equally as important, for defending oneself against the dark arts. It could be," he began, and Kora got the impression that this was a well polished, well rehearsed speech. "The difference between physical fitness, and lack thereof that get's you kill."

He whipped his wand out of his pocket, and sent a stunning spell at Kora, who ducked, the spell flying throw the strands of her hair as they gently cascaded back to her shoulders.

"Very good, Miss Maver. Ten points to Gryffindor. Miss Maver here," he addressed the class again. "Can think on her feet, can dodge -" He threw a book at her head, and she jumped aside. "Anything you throw at her, it seems. The disarming charm, is in fact one of the most dangerous charms that there is. It renders you wandless, unable to defend yourself." He paused, although evidently only for effect. "Or does it? As far as I can see, Muggles manage pretty well. Or, some of them do. Sometimes dodging a hex," - a whip of blue light whistled over Kora's head - "Is not enough. Sometimes, you need to fight back."

"Sorry sir," said Thomas Boot, who had been keeping meticulous notes of everything that Professor Ridley had said. "But what is the point of this? Where is this going?" Thomas was one of the school's most gifted scholars - at magic, at least. The thought of muggle combat was one of the scariest things that he could fathom.

"Yeah!" said Avery, a hefty Slytherin student who lolled across two seats in the back row. "No offense sir," he drawled, in a tone that insinuated that much offense was about to follow. "But we're school kids. I'm pretty sure most of us," he sneered at the female population of the class. "Most of the boys, can defend themselves." There was general assent from the male, Slytherin crowd. Snape nodded his head, and along the row, James resisted the temptation to smack his greasy head onto the desk.

"Mr Avery, is it?" said Professor Ridley, in as cool a tone as it was possible to use. "Would you come down the front for me."

Slowly, painfully, Avery dragged himself up from his seat and waltzed down the aisle, as though he owned the place. The class trembled in anticipation - Kora was truly dwarfed next to him, her eyes widened in fear.

"I'm sure, Mr Avery, that you could," he coughed, conspicuously, "'Beat up' Miss Maver here?"

Avery looked down at her, shrugged, and then nodded. Remus glanced curiously over at Sirius, to see Sirius completely engrossed in the demonstration at the front. The muscles in his arms were so tense that he snapped his eraser in half, and didn't even notice. Whilst Sirius' reaction was by far the most noticeable, it was also not particularly strange. Most of the Hufflepuffs, notorious for disliking conflict were anxiously watching the front, and the Gryffindors were all but outraged that such a practice looked set to continue.

"But Mr Avery! That is not the point!" continued Professor Ridley, alive in his talk, either not noticing or not caring about the class' reaction. "We need to make sure that little Miss Maver, here, can defend herself from y- a Death Eater, of your size. Give me your wand please?"

"No way!"

Professor Ridley looked at him, using the same, cold steely gaze he had used on Kora earlier, but intensified a thousand times. "Expelliarmus!" Avery's blackthorn wand came soaring into Professor Ridley's hand. The professor caught it deftly, and looked thoughtfully at Avery. "Twenty points from Slytherin for insolence. So, Mr Avery. How tall are you?"

"Six foot four," Avery scowled at Ridley, and then down at Kora, who threw her hands up in despair and irritation at the teacher for making her participate in this demonstration.

"And you, please, Miss Maver."

"Four foot eleven." Delivered with no facial expression.

To be brutally honest with himself, Kora's answer was a shock to most of the Marauders. Four foot eleven was short, granted - but it wasn't the tiny childlike physique that they had imagined and teased her for. Wearing her battered Converse, she had to be about five foot. That wasn't that abnormally short at all. Sirius wondered whether or not she only seemed so tiny to him because he imagined her so.

She certainly looked very tiny next to Avery though. Sirius gripped the desk in grim anticipation. Truth be told, all the Gryffindors in the room, including James were glaring at either Ridley or Avery - in anger that Ridley thought this was a good idea - in anger because he was a Slytherin and because Gryffindors stood up for each other when united against a common enemy. The Hufflepuffs looked exasperated and concerned, the Ravenclaws were watching carefully, anticipating the lesson.

"In this situation," said Ridley calmly, blissfully ignorant of the high-running emotions in the room, "The smaller party should be using the opponent's weight to their advantage. Miss Maver, have you ever studied Martial Arts?"

Kora shook her head. "I used to play rugby, though. I mean, before I came to Hogwarts."

"What's rugby?" asked Thomas curiously, still making notes. Kora looked at him greatfully, as he stalled the lesson without meaning to. Sirius wished he had thought of it, but couldn't for the life of him think why.

"It's a muggle sport," said Kora quietly. She began to speak very quickly. "You run around the pitch with an oblong shaped ball and you can only pass backwards, and you try to score tries - that's like goals, and you tackle-"

"The players on the opposite team to gain possession of the ball." finished Professor Ridley. "Quite. How many years did you play this sport for?"

Kora looked away from the class, but answered anyway. "I started when I was six. I still play over the summer. I know it's a winter sport, but you would not believe the amount of community camps that run. I had a tryout for a women's team at Saracens this summer."

James turned around to Sirius. "What on earth does that mean?" he muttered.

Sirius shrugged. "Beats me!" All Sirius knew was that the longer Kora stalled, the safer she became. He was suddenly hyper aware of the ticking on Remus' watch next to him. "What's the time?" he murmured.

Remus showed him. "Half an hour left. Why are you so jumpy Padfoot?"

Sirius looked away, very deliberately.

"Come on mate!" Remus pushed. "We're best friends, aren't we?"

"Sure we are...don't give me the puppy-wolf eyes!" he joked. "Oh, for Merlin's sake! Fine! I may, or may not have got Maver bitten by a malaclaw, this morning."

"And that means what?" Remus looked blankly at him.

"She's got terrible luck for the rest of the week."

"Do I detect talking between you two, Mr Lupin and Mr Black? Ten points from Gryffindor!" Sirius and Remus snapped back to attention. "So, Miss Maver, I imagine you can perform a pretty deft rugby tackle."

Kora looked up at Avery, and then back up at Professor Ridley, panic evident in her gaze. Her hands began to tremble violently. "I mean, I can, but there is a huge height- er weight- er- strength advantage and I'm not sure I could overcome that and I mean, I'm not that good and in rugby there's not intentional violence, you're just trying to regain possession and I mean, I've never-"

"Just, give it a go." Ridley cut through her babbling. He waved his wand at his desk, and wordlessly vanished it. "Go on then."

Kora walked backwards across the floor, her bare feet padding softly. Avery widened his stance, and brought his hands up, balling them into fists. Kora was turning slightly green.

"Go on then, mudblood!" muttered Avery, too low for anyone but Kora to hear. "Tiny little mudblood. Calling to your muggle mother for help? Or your fath-"

As Avery moved on to the taunting her father, a slight change came over Kora, which no one, least of all Avery could have predicted. It was completely unprecedented to the entire form, that Kora should suddenly run at Avery, grapple her arms around his knees, knock him off balance, and drive her shoulder into his chest - sending the huge Avery tumbling over, and Kora falling on top of him. She stood up as quickly as she could, snatched Thomas Boot's wand from his desk and pointed it at Avery's neck.

"Never ever mention my fucking father."


	8. Bad Luck

**I'm guessing that you all know that I'm not JK Rowling by now. Do I really need to keep saying it?**

_**I also wanted to say thank you to the four people who have followed this story, and to the one person who favourited it. I really, really appreciated it :) **_**I also wanted to add that as of the 2nd of August, 2013, this chapter has been edited. Maybe you should reread it? I don't know...**

**BlueberryQuill**

Remus looked uneasily across at Sirius, who was sitting in the centre of the common room floor, his eyes trained on the portrait hole. The pair of them were supposedly engrossed in homework; Peter and James had abandoned their friends to play a violent game of Gobstones on the opposite side of the room, James obviously and proudly languishing across the armchair that Kora frequented.

"Where do you think she is?" said Remus for the third time, and Sirius looked back at his friend.

"Why do you care so much?" he snapped, suddenly feeling a bit stupid that he had let his friend in on the secret. Kora needed to be watched, checked up on, at least while the curse wore off, but ultimately, that was his responsibility, and secretly, he felt a little selfish about that role. He hardly needed the entire house getting on the girl's case. "I mean, she came out tops in that fight today."

"Which is exactly why we are waiting for her. Because ultimately, that good luck will turn out to be bad luck, according to my research on the mackled malaclaw. It doesn't work two ways. Everything is bad from here on in. And to answer your first question, because I am Head Boy, and it has come to my attention that a younger, smaller -"

"She's the same age as us!" said Sirius indignantly.

"That another student has become vulnerable, and it is my duty to ensure that she is protected. She's already got sat next to James and Snivellus, neither of whom like her, she lost her books and she was picked for a self defense demonstration. The whole bad luck thing is pretty evident!"

"Yeah, well Moony," snorted Sirius, "How much of that speech was taken word for word from some Head Boy bighead boy manual?"

Remus chuckled. "It's pretty much the whole speech Dumbledore gave Lily and I in his office. The protection stuff, not the Kora stuff. So, Padfoot..." Remus' grey eye caught Sirius' brown. "What's your excuse?"

Sirius laughed silently to himself, as Remus perched on the edge of his seat, waiting for an answer. "Oh, you're serious?" Remus nodded eagerly. "Well, it's like the sorting hat said in first year isn't it? _The gutsy, brave and chivalrous to Gryffindor are linked! _I'm just being your average, chivalrous Gryffindor, you know?"

"Yeah, right. You couldn't possibly be getting all marshmellow gooey over Ma-"

"Merlin's pants," cussed Sirius, jumping to his feet.

Kora was clambering through the portrait hole, one hand steadying herself against the wall, the other clamped firmly across her face. Carefully, she slid down, stumbling a little on her ankle. She grabbed the wall with her other hand for support, and but then immediately pressed her hand back against her nose. Sirius jumped up, scarcely caring about other people's reaction, followed by Remus, but oddly enough it was James who got there first.

"Woah, Maver!" his normally snide voice was softer, although still teasing. "What happened to you?"

"Eiffel dow teshaires," she mumbled, looking very obviously down and away from the Marauders. "Dush ebbywonne hava tushu?"

"Wait, what?" said Peter, joining the pack. Sirius noted, somewhat bitterly, that never before had he seen Gryffindor chivalry come into play, and was irked overall, that they had chosen this moment and this girl to become all chivalrous over.

Kora leant back against the wall, closing her eyes, but was greatful of the human shield they were forming. She was too tired to explain everything to the entire common room - most of whom thankfully, were assuming that the Marauders were having a meeting in the corner - which was nothing out of the usual, and were just letting it slide. Carefully, she pulled her fingers away from her nose, which continued to gush blood all over her shirt - the only other one she owned, Sirius recollected. Both were now covered in blood, and completely ruined.

"I fell down the stairs," she said, a little louder, a little more clearly. Sirius pursed his lips with disbelief. "Does anyone have a tissue?"

"Sure," said Peter. "I always have one." He dug around in his pocket for a minute. Then the other. His shirt pocket. "Except, it seems, today. Sorry Maver, must have lost it."

"It's okay," she mumbled.

"Here," said Sirius, as he pulled off his jumper, somewhat eager to get in on the let's help Maver regime. The traces of malaclaw slime were still drying on the sleeves, where her cleansing spell had not quite reached. "It's already got that lobster juice all over it."

"Nah, it's okay," sighed Kora. "Magically, bloodstains are one of those things which don't come out. I'm not ruining your jumper."

"Well, that's a change in tone from earlier," remarked Sirius, sour with rejection. He pulled his jumper back on and made an exasperated sort of noise. "From, _I'm sure you can afford a new one. _Just don't get blood on the carpet."

"Who gives a toss about the carpet?" said James, rolling his eyes. Kora looked at him quizzically.

"Why are you all being so nice? It's weird. It doesn't suit you." She looked from Remus, to Peter, to James, to Sirius, and back to James. "Oh, come on Potter. Stop Gawking. Remember third year, that Quidditch accident? It can't be worse than that!"

Peter looked at her face, and then to her legs and her arms where the sleeves were rolled up. He shrugged, awkwardly, without making eye contact.

"It is? _Fuck!_" Kora's other hand flew up to her face, where she cautiously probed at her glibella - wincing as the waves of pain radiated from that point to all over her skull.

"Look, Maver, calm down. Calm down. I'll take you up to our dorm, get you mopped up, and all clean and bright and sunny new." Sirius looked at her.

She looked at Sirius. "The girls have their own bathroom."

"Yeah," said Remus. "And I'm sure you want this all over the form."

Sirius grabbed her by the shoulders, and steered her up towards the dorm before she could make up another valid argument. Truth be told, he was sick of her willing to accept help from anyone - help for James Potter, but not him. Kora's resistance was only token, her head was throbbing, and her face ached and all her joints felt rusty. She allowed him to manhandle her, guiding her towards the stairs.

"We'll pack up the homework and vomit - from the Gobstones, god Maver! Don't look so disgusted! Be up in a minute, Padfoot," said Remus, and as Kora was shoved up the stairs, she barely had enough time to register shock.

She had frequented the boys' dormitory as children, considering they couldn't enter hers, but since fourth year, it had gone under a redecoration. It was a lot messier, and she supposed that Peter and Remus' organised regime had succumbed to a mixture of Sirius, James and exam stress. As Sirius shoved her into the bathroom, and grabbed some toilet paper dampening it in the sink, she noticed the addition of razor blades and astringent. Sirius' Tornadoes poster was missing, and in its place was a muggle poster of a motorbike. She wondered silently if he had stopped supporting them, or if he had just taken the poster down. She wondered if it mattered. She wondered what other changes there had been - more deep running personality changes - and came up with very little. She was almost sad to be on the outside again, not knowing.

"I was serious down there," she said, as Sirius whetted the tissue and began to dab blood from her nose, as gently if she were a kitten. "Why are you guys being so nice?"

"I don't know about the others," said Sirius quietly. "Although I imagine the whole Gryffindor chivalry is coming into play. I know why I'm being so nice."

"Why are you being so nice?"

There was the whole truth, part of the truth, or downright lying. Kora's eyes gazed into Sirius', and he noted how they went through different rings of green on their way to centre. Sirius opted for the middle ground. "Because you're lying."

There was a painful silence. Kora looked up at Sirius, and under the bright light, he could see the bruised, purple bruises blossoming on her face. Sirius' childhood had been so that he recognized the shape of fists. "No, I'm not." Kora's voice was steady. "I fell down the twisty ones with the fifth step missing, on my way back from Potions. It just so happens I may have forgotten which steps tremble."

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "You fell down those - relatively small - stairs, landed on both sides of your face, and then both arms," he picked up her left arm, which had twisty red welts across it. She shook his hand off.

"Yeah, I did. Call it bad luck."

"Kora, I'm not stupid. That wasn't an accident. Someone did this to you."

"I fell down the stairs."

"Into who?"

"Maybe I fell down the stairs and just so happened to meet Snape, Avery and Mulciber. Thanks for the support. I think I can do the basic first aid spells a bit better than this." Her tone was condescending, her eyes impatient, as she shrugged his hand off her shoulder. She dodged past him, and ran down the stairs to at a time back to the common room, leaving Sirius watching her - a strange sense of desertion growing in his chest. Stupid, when really, it had been him that had deserted her.

By the next morning, at breakfast, she looked completely normal again, courtesy of Piraveena's healing charms, which had been delivered without doubt at her story, to Kora's relief. Although her shirt still had a patch of ripped gashes, rimmed with red, it was hardly noticeable that she had had a run in with a malaclaw, and much less a run in with some Slytherins. She didn't mention anything to Sirius, and he didn't talk to her. Everything was back to normal.


	9. Sirius' Eyes

**I'm not JK Rowling, but if you've read any of the other chapters, you know that. If you haven't, that's weird. You don't start at the middle! What?**

_**Thank you for following and favouriting. It really makes my day a lot better :) Any chance of a review? I want feedback be it good or bad.**_

_**This chapter was edited as of the 2nd of August _ **_

_**Much love, **_**BlueberryQuill xxx**

"And there he goes again," said James, accompanied by a conspiratorial eyeroll and wink to Remus and Peter.

Peter let out a low whistle, as he began to devour his sausages with piles of ketchup. "Sirius, mate. I know she's got loads of terrible luck and all, but there is no need to stalk her every minute of every day!"

Sirius groaned. "I am not stalking her, Peter. This is breakfast. The entire school is here!"

"I meant with your eyes," Peter said, with the tone of someone breaking an incredibly obvious truth, to someone a little bit stupid.

"Mate," said James. "You are constantly eye-fucking Kora, and it is putting me off these delightful eggs." He jogged Remus to get his attention, and the motion domino-ed Remus into Kora, causing Kora's bowl to flip up in her face, soaking her shirt in her untouched cereal and milk. "Sorry Maver," he snickered, sarcasm practically dripping from his voice.

After Kora had fixed her face, she and the Marauders had resumed their policy of ignoring each other most of the time, and jibing at each other when they weren't - leaving Sirius wonder if it had really happened.

She flicked her middle finger at him, before popping in earplugs. Remus looked at her curiously. "I thought that electrical devices didn't work at Hogwarts," he muttered to Peter, who shrugged, staring intently at her earphones.

"They don't," Kora snapped, making Remus jump. "That's why I can hear every single world you're saying." She swung her legs over the bench, and stood up. "Nice talking to you too."

Kora stalked off, back up to the dormitory. She knew that she was meant to be considering her stolen shoes, her broomstick, when it would return, when she could have her shoes back; but suddenly it didn't seem to matter very much at all. Her feet were growing used to the cold. She supposed, kind of gloomily, that you could grow used to anything.

"And we're all going to pretend that we didn't see you looking up Maver's skirt just now," said James, tutting and shaking his head at his friend. "Seriously, Padfoot! There are so many girls, better looking than Maver, who asked you out last year." Rowena Davis walked by, her gaggle-like entourage following and giggling. Sirius watched them with an obvious disinterest, even though they were all tall and skinny and had that Ravenclaw snobbishness that made them attractively out of reach. "I bet that fucking Rowena Davis would go out with you!"

"What's so great about Rowena Davis?" asked Sirius, although he knew that just last year, the Marauders had all but stalked her and her posse.

It was Peter who visibly lit up, his pudgy cheeks blushing and becoming more pronounced whilst he attempted to suppress his puppy-dog grin. "Because she's hot, and she can rub two brain cells together-"

"More than two," jumped in Remus, whose disinterest was too perfectly delivered to be realistic. He mussed up his floppy teddy-brown hair, until it looked exactly the same as before. "Doesn't she hold the world record for reciting the most celebrities on chocolate frog cards?"

James looked from Remus to Peter, and grinned at them, slightly paternally. He looked at Sirius, who was turning pink and stabbing his bacon with far too much force. "Can Maver match that?"

"That's not smarts, that's mindless and robotic mem-"

James raised an eyebrow, and Sirius again felt that slight twinge of longing, in not being able to do it. He could perfectly recall how precise Kora's patronising face had been, how her green eyes had screamed abuse at him, her perfect half smile and of course, the elegantly raised eyebrow. "What he means is," said James again. "That Kora is not that smart."

"Okay," admitted Sirius. "She's not."

"Thank you." He turned to Remus and Peter, and winked. "Hear that? We are making progress! Okay, are you willing to admit that Kora is not as pretty as Rowena Davis?"

"Well, she's not five foot nine and blonde, if that's what you mean."

"Too right she isn't."

"But-"

"But what?"

"But why are we so hung up over Kora, for gods sake. We hate her. The bitch left the Marauders!"

Remus, Peter and James looked at him quizzically, not approvingly. Sirius stopped. Had he misjudged their feelings for Kora? No, their teasing and probing, their forced admissions, could not point to them being accepting. Was it his poor lying skills? Was he so obvious? He had always considered himself to be quite the accomplished liar and had before convinced the likes of Dumbledore that pranks had been accidental, had convinced teachers to give him another few days for homework and had even convinced Kreacher that he wasn't leaving forever, as he had packed up the contents of his bedroom.

"Okay guys," shrugged James, finally. "Let's go."

Kora's milkstained shirt was sticking her all over, clinging to her, sliming over her. She walked into the bathroom and locked the door before pulling off her shirt - Piraveena often came back upstairs to reclean her teeth. "Scourgify," she muttered, over her shirt - and most of the milk siphoned again. "Scourgify," she said again, as it cleaned more efficiently. She pulled off her bra, and repeated the spell, and then over her skirt. Considering she was now almost completely naked, she pulled off her underwear as well, and rinsed under the warm water of the shower.

She basked catlike in the heat, until the steam was beginning to feel oppressive. _Shit,_ she thought. _Class. _Not just class, but Potions, with Professor Slughorn - who was lovely in many ways, but was also a stickler for punctuality. She hopped out of the shower, slipping over on the bathmat in her panic, but was up in a second, towel dried her hair and ran a comb through it. Dressing as quickly as she could, she grabbed her Potions textbook, Cauldron and basic ingredients set, before hurtling down the stairs, four at a time.


	10. Quidditch Traumas

**This chapter was edited as of the 2nd of August! Much love, BlueberryQuill**

Kora had completed six years at Hogwarts, which obviously amounted to a lot of weeks. None, however, had been quite like this. None had been quite this shit.

It turned out that she had temporarily misplaced a lot more stuff than the Marauders had stolen, her school bag developed an unpleasant habit of eating her textbooks, and her head became a magnet for misfiring curses. She found herself tripping over every uneven paving stone, falling down stairs frequently and slipping over in the shower on a daily basis. She had received a letter from _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ letting her know that her broomstick would take another week to fix and that it would probably cost another two galleons, which she didn't own, extra. Her shoes continued to swing tantalizingly from the inside of the clock, under anti-summoning charms, and she had a horrible feeling that she was a direct cause of the fact that Gryffindor was losing the House cup. She looked a state pretty much permanently, because she couldn't do healing charms as much as the petty accidents warranted.

The Marauders had hardly been helpful. James had offered her his broomstick, which she had denied - his idea of a good laugh would probably be watching her fall from the clock tower and breaking a limb. Sirius had offered her his broomstick, which she had denied, because owing Sirius too much would forge a link between them, a link that the Marauders had made oh-so-clear did not exist. Sirius had also been popping up in all sorts of places that he wasn't wanted - starting dead conversations in Care of Magical Creatures, correcting her gently in Potions and always there, with a textbook to share. The only brief respites she got from him were during her free periods, where he generally had either Muggle Studies or Divination. He was always curious, and terribly predictable.

"Oi, Maver - what happened to-" he called out, as she walked into the Great Hall for dinner, with weeds still in her damp hair.

She scowled at him. "I fell out of a tree into the lake. Yes, I'm alright. No, I don't want to borrow spare robes, they won't fit. The drying charm you offered last time was shit. I'm still as unlucky as hell. I don't see that it's your business, and yes, I wish you would just leave me alone. And I should be good by tomorrow." She quickly answered all the questions he was wont to answer as dryly as she could, before perching on the bench next to Piraveena, and accepting a shot of the clear fluid they were using to thin out their pumpkin juice.

"She's a damn sight better at Divination than you, now Sirius!" said Peter, attacking his bolognaise with great gusto, and much tomato sauce flying into his hair.

Remus looked at Sirius, and shook his head. "I still don't get why you're taking Divination, it is the stupidest subject. You remember fifth year?" He pulled his hair over his eyes, and spoke with a much higher pitch, in a near perfect imitation of the fraudulent Trelawney. "_And you, James Potter, I see in fifteen or so years time, will break out of a laundry closet, befriend a weasel and a beaver, and hunt for the lost Horklumps. _I mean, I know that some of her claims are a bit batty, but that was just way too far fetched!"

Sirius smiled, in spite of himself. "I am taking Divination, my friend, because it is the easiest goddamn subject to pass. All I've had to do is gaze into a crystal ball and a mug of tea, and tell her that the end of the world is nigh."

"It's hardly a subject that is going to make you employable!"

"Yeah, but they don't let you take broom-making, now do they? I'm going to have to take an apprenticeship, and all they want is Charms and Herbology," he said, to general surprise from the group.

Peter nudged James in the ribs. "He can make the brooms, and Maver can fly the brooms and they can all have scrawny Quidditch playing seeker children." James gave Peter a stony sort of glare, and picked some of the dry mud off his Quidditch robes.

"Kora doesn't want to play Quidditch - she wants to be a dragon keep-" Sirius began softly.

"Too fucking right Maver doesn't want to play Quidditch." James snarled, his brown eyes looking positively lethal. "Too damn fucking right."

Remus looked sympathetically over the table at him. "Tryouts couldn't have been that bad-"

"Oh, they fucking were," James growled. "The new beater is shit and the seeker is a whole new level of crappiness."

"Who?" said Peter, ignoring the _shut the fuck up what the hell are you doing _looks that Remus and Sirius were giving him.

"Bruce Thompson's the beater, who missed a few less balls than he hit, but that says nothing at all; and Alastair Ealing is the motherfucking Seeker, who is an arsehole and a prick and manage to catch a grand total of three golfballs in his tryout. But he was better than the others - because no one who can fucking decently play Quidditch, like your precious _Kora_ bothered to show the fuck up!"

"Oh, it's not that bad," soothed Remus, pouring James another pumpkin juice. "There has got to be something-"

"There is nothing good about this!" said James, slurping up the last of his pasta, and draining the goblet in one. "There is nothing we can do about this save hexing the other team, and it's Slytherin - they'd be onto us in a second! Sirius, mate? Could you play?"

"Wow, James, you must be really desperate...you know how shit I am at seeker. And I've already been made commentator for the year, you know that."

James' face was murderous. "Well, I suppose I'm going to go up to bed." He stalked out of the hall, leaving his friends looking concernedly at each other, and Kora sitting still, trembling slightly, and trying to pretend that she had been oblivious to the turmoil she had inadvertently created.


	11. In the Early Hours

**Today is an editing day, because I'm not happy with the first few chapters...there will be no major plot differences, but if you're interested, from the 2nd of August 2013, those chapters will be a bit different :)**

**Much love,**

**BlueberryQuill**

When Sirius woke up in the morning, sat up and rubbed sleep from his eyes - he hadn't expected to see Kora Maver perched on the end of his bed. She was already dressed, and looked as bright eyed and bushy tailed as a veritable squirrel, even though it couldn't have been more than half-past six. Morning people, as a rule, pissed Sirius off, but he was too confused as to what she was doing to hex her just yet.

"Kora, what are you doing in my dorm?" he said, in a hushed whisper, as he sat up. Kora swung her legs up onto the bed and crossed them. She smiled pleasantly. "Kora," he said again, a little more agitated. "What are you doing in my dorm?"

"I came to tell you something," was her very helpful, not at all revealing reply. "A few things, actually." She tucked a few light brown strands of hair behind her ear. She looked the happiest he'd seen her this year - in the last few years, to be honest.

"Something that couldn't wait until I came down in to the common room?"

She considered for a second, still looking infuriatingly happy. Sirius had a strange urge to throttle her. "I guess it could have waited._ I_ couldn't wait. I waited for you to wake up, though, didn't I?"

A Remus shaped bulge appeared under the quilt on the bed closest to the window, as he sat up, and stretched catlike in the sun. Kora caught his eye and grinned, and Remus smiled back, before realising the oddity of the situation. Looking quizzically from Kora to Sirius, he gave Kora a sunny but pretentious smile and Sirius a confused raised eyebrow and shrug, before retreating to the bathroom.

Somehow, it seemed to dawn on Sirius that Kora was in their bedroom. "Didn't it occur to you that - well, we might sleep naked or something?"

Kora looked quite taken aback - it was pretty clear that she hadn't considered it at all. "Aww, thanks Sirius," she said. "Now I have that image in my head at quarter to six in the morning. It was pretty clear you didn't. Sirius, you share a room with _three other guys._ Like, I'm all for people who stir their cauldron their own way, but all four of you? That is a kinky relationship."

Sirius couldn't have looked more disgusted, as _that _particular image blossomed in his head. "Gee, thanks Maver. Now I have _that_ image in my head at quarter to six in the morning."

Kora smiled, a genuine smile - nothing sarky or snarky or ironic in her grin. "Okay," she giggled quietly. "You win." Sirius hated himself, for noticing how her eyes lit up and how she tipped back her head when she laughed.

He drummed his fingers on the headboard. "Drop the mystery, please Maver. What are you doing in our bedroom at this ungodly hour?"

Kora looked at him, and smiled again, if possible, even more brightly. "I came to talk to you. Basically, back in the girls' dorm, we've been flipping coins for about half an hour, and am pretty damn sure that I am a lucky little girl again! Which is so good, because I have had the shittiest time. I basically came to tell you that you can stop following me around, much as I appreciated the sentiment and all. In fact, to be honest, it was kind of nice to have the company and all but I just came to let you know that any sort of chivalry thing you were sporting isn't necessary. And I came to say thank you, because I guess I've been a bit of an arse."

"You weren't the nicest," he admitted. "But we got it. It was kind of my fault anyway-"

"It was in no way your fault," she said, smiling at him. Carefully, she moved slightly over on the bed towards him, and for a crazy second, he had considered kissing her. As his temporary madness began to fade, he contented himself with smiling - which for the first time in months, she reciprocated readily enough. Deciding it was about time for a second moment of madness, he opened his mouth - just to say a few things; when she threw herself off the bed, as Remus poked his head round the door.

Remus opened the door, shaking his wet hair out on the carpet like a dog, before walking over to his own bed and began to sort out his school books for the day. Kora ran full pelt across the room, jumped up and flung her arms around his neck. Sirius could have stabbed her.

"Woah," said Remus, awkwardly patting her on the back.

"What's going on?" Sirius mouthed across to him, and Remus shrugged in complete confusion.

"You, going to McGonnagall was the damned nicest thing anyone has done for me, ever - because she said that she completely understood and gave Gryffindor like fifty points and cancelled my detentions!" Kora broke away, and stumbled away a little. Sirius looked at her green eyes, remembered how angry they could look, and for the first time ever, marvelled at how soft and pretty they could be.

Sirius had gone from confused, to relieved and was now completely pissed, and it had only just gone seven in the morning. Hadn't he wanted to tell teachers to lay off Kora? Hadn't he not, assuming that she would take it badly? He crumpled the edge of his duvet in aggravation, before remembering the one good deed he had remembered. Right on cue, Remus disappeared back into the bathroom to clean his teeth, wondering if he had indeed woken up, and Sirius seized the opportunity.

"Maver?" he said, his morning voice cracking slightly. How Kora could be so chipper with her perfect soprano tones, at this hour was completely beyond him.

"Can we go back to Kora?" she said, looking disgruntled for the first time. "I've been calling you Sirius for weeks now."

"Kora," he said. "I know I ruined that shirt-"

Kora looked down at her shirt, and carefully fingered the rip and stain. "It's cool," she said softly. "I mean, it was my fault really that the malaclaw bit me. I've been blaming you because it's a damned sight easier and more fun. Hence the constant bitchiness. But it's all good-"

"Well, I remembered what you said about being able to afford a jumper-" he said, carefully.

Kora pressed her hand to her face. "I am so sorry," she mumbled. "I mean, that was pretty awful. But I cleaned it, didn't I!"

"Yeah, but it's true, isn't it?" he pressed. "I can, and I get that you can't, I mean at home - you can't really."

She smiled, a bit sadly. "Sure I can. I'm sure I could-"

Sirius looked down at her, and watched as she nervously intertwined her fingers through her tawny hair. It took a second for her to look back up at him, and he melted instantly. Literally, his legs felt like jelly. "Fuck it Maver, I bought you a shirt, okay? That wasn't so hard?"

"You did?" Kora sounded more confused, than delighted or thankful. Sirius strode across the room, as quietly as he could past the sleeping James and Peter, and opened the wardrobe, where amongst the Marauder's robes was a small shirt. He pressed it into her hands. "Sirius, please, you know I can't-"

"Just accept the fucking shirt, Maver. You can do that without being friends."

She looked up at him, and nodded. The bathroom was still occupied by Lupin, and she awkwardly fingered the shirt that she was wearing - which had been the subject of many washing spells - considering she had to wear it every day since Snape, Mulciber and Avery had ruined her other. "Could you turn away?" she said awkwardly.

He obliged. "Why not just leave to change?" he said, as she pulled off her first shirt and dumped it on the bed.

"I've yet to speak to James..." was the completely unexpected reply.

"Is this peace, then?"

"Honest parley. You've been dicks, and I've been a bitch and I don't love you oh-so-very-much. But I've got to set a few things straight over the past week. So I needed to clear things with you, so you knew to stop playing guardian angel. Remus had been so amazing and incredible and good and smart and-"

"Okay, I get the picture," said Sirius, an uncharacteristic scowl appearing on his face.

"I needed to talk house points with James. Okay, you can turn around."

Sirius did turn around, clumsily sinking onto the bed at the same time - sending his bedside lantern clattering loudly onto the floor. James, in the adjacent bed snapped awake as Peter stirred. James looked first at Sirius - and then, more murderously at Kora, who was just doing up the last button. He had his wand in a second and sat up, pointing it at Kora - at Sirius - at Kora.

"You _cannot _fuck a girl - this bitch - in the fucking room where we are," he shouted at Sirius, until Peter was as awake as the rest of them. Peter looked from between the three of them, and turned back over, groaning.

"We were not having sex," said Kora, as calmly as though she were giving him the time of day. "That would be weird. I came to talk Quidditch."

"Then why were you not wearing a shirt," hissed James, his wand now trained indisputably on Kora. She didn't so much as flinch.

"Because Sirius inadvertently caused a malaclaw to bite me, causing my shoulder to bleed and ruining my white shirt." Still perfectly calm, just a flush of embarrassment at what James implied in her cheeks. Sirius was pink, which clashed horribly against the red drapes around his bed. "And so he bought me a new one."

James pressed his palm to his temple, as though he was struggling to think so much, so early in the morning. The word "Quidditch" seemed to be triggering an unpleasant headache.

"I am prepared to sub or tryout for Seeker, maybe Chaser if you like. Keeper at a stretch. I mean, I heard you last night, and I reckoned that much as we hate each other, we've got to do what's best for Gryffindor," Kora's face was less sunny - and she backed away from him slowly, until she came up against Sirius' bed.

James stood up, training his wand on her even more precisely. "Fuck you," he snarled. Kora cringed. "You fucking told me this today. After I fucking chose the team. After I fucking told people that they were playing. You bitch."

"My broom was away for repairs," she stammered, what had seemed like a clad-iron excuse in her dorm room seeming a flimsy, breakable reason to have missed it.

"And you couldn't have borrowed one? From me? From fucking Sirius? You _know _he would have said yes. He thinks the bleeding sun shines out of your mudblo- your arse, doesn't he?"

"James, mate," said Peter, as he stirred. "Shut up." Sirius looked from James, who he really wanted to hex, to Kora, who had gone a startling shade of pink - which, considering nothing yet this morning had phased her, spoke volumes in his book.

"And now-" James stepped towards her. "You think you can come crawling up here, to our dormitory and just sort out all our fucking problems, do you, Maver? Do you?" His wand was practically pressed against her nose. She gulped.

"No," she said, so quietly only James and Sirius could hear. "I don't."

"Good," he snarled. "Because you can't. You were literally nothing before the Marauders, and now you're literally nothing again. You have no control over Quidditch, or Gryffindor or any kind of social life, because guess what? We were your only friends."

Sirius looked uneasily behind him, to see Remus struggling to immerse himself in a book. Peter was tiptoeing into the bathroom. He wasn't exactly doing anything. Some Gryffindors they all were.

Kora's face twisted. She looked up at James, who cocked his head at her, and smiled - she winced. Hand on her skirt pocket, where Sirius could only assume she kept her wand, she edged along the bed towards the door. "Where the hell are you going?" snarled James, who was already wondering if this was really necessary.

"Away," she said quietly. "I guess that's the only thing we mudbloods can control, isn't it? Ourselves." Upon reaching the end of the bed, she looked uneasily at Remus, who didn't make eyecontact, nodded at Sirius and hurtled down the stairs as though wings were attached to her bare feet.

James slumped back onto his bed, sitting on his bed, looked more distressed and upset than angry all of a sudden. Sirius looked at his friend - from the deep-set bags under his eyes to his creased and crumpled forehead, to the way that he was trembling from head to foot. James had evidently been up half the night worrying about Quidditch. Sirius was moving past anger at his friend, into fully fledged sympathy. Cautiously, he got up to give his friend a hug - to find Peter already there.

"Prongs," murmured Peter, and somehow, the nickname - the part of the group that Kora had no place in, not to put too fine a point on it - seemed to sooth him more than anything. "That was way out of order."

James crumpled back on the bed, dropping his wand amongst the unmade sheets. "I know..." he groaned. Sirius was almost sure that it was the first time he had heard James willingly admit that he had been wrong to do anything. "But - aww fuck it - she has fucked up Quidditch for the entire year!"

"She came to make things as right as she could," Peter reminded him. James moaned into his pillow case.

Sirius couldn't see where they could go from there - it seemed a pretty well connived stalemate. It was Remus, as usual, who was left to pick up the pieces of their dodgy friendship group; a skill he had got far more practise in, over the years. "I know what we'll do," he said quietly. Peter, Sirius and even James looked up and over to him. He closed his book. "We go back to ignoring her, we leave her well alone. All of us," he specified, looking at Sirius. "She can do likewise."

It wasn't the right thing to do, or the chivalrous thing to do, it certainly wasn't the brave thing to do - but it was an easy thing to do, and it was the thing that would keep their friendship group from disintegrating. Sirius pursed his lips.

Remus continued looking at him. "Everything will go back to how it was."

_I don't want to go back to how everything was! _thought Sirius.


	12. Notes

**Dear Readers, whom I love so very, very much (especially the kind ones of you who have reviewed, favourited and followed this story :D )**

**If you read the previous chapter "In the Early Hours" on a day previous to the 5th of August 2013, I would go and reread it - as it was edited late yesterday with some serious plot changes being made.**

**I do get what a truly tedious process that was, and now I've fleshed out the story a lot better in my mind - so this shouldn't happen again. In order to ensure this doesn't happen again, there will probably be a slightly longer gap (1-2 full days) between stories, if not even longer; giving me time to not only edit for content, but edit for style as well as ensuring that the scene is leading the story in the direction I wish it to go.**

**Thank you for reading this rather long message, I really appreciate it.**

**Much love**

**BlueberryQuill xxx**

_Sorry, James Potter_

The letter landed on Kora's head halfway through lunchbreak, a few days later. The term letter was a very loose one, because upon pulling it out of her hair, it transpired that it had only three words - none of which she particularly wanted to hear or read. Carefully, Kora extricated herself from the branches of the tree, where she and Fransisca had been revising Transfiguration, until she could balance along the bough without falling off.

She glared at the note, as though it were the author itself, before crumpling it in the palm of her hand, and shoving it into the depths of her bag.

"What was that?" said Sisca, closing her book with relish, before opening the pasty she had wrapped and biting into it.

"Nothing," said Kora. Considering the boy had not spoken to her all week, had at least twice hushed his friends from talking to her and had given her so many dark looks that she felt positively awful - these three, rather pathetic words had done nothing towards her forgiveness. Chances were, James had not written the note himself, and instead Remus or Peter were trying to persuade her to go and talk to him.

"Doesn't look like nothing," remarked Fransisca, licking bits of pastry off her fingers. "Looks like a note, if you ask me." She looked at Kora's face, flushed with anger, and misread the colour in her cheeks entirely. "You're blushing like nobody's business," Fransisca let out a most un-Fransisca like giggle. "Is somebody writing you a love letter?"

Kora snorted at the ridiculous notion. "It's James Potter," she admitted. "Who wants me to forgive him. Again."

Fransisca's smile dropped from her face. "Oh, I'm sorry Kora..." she backtracked quickly. Kora smiled and shook her head.

"It's all good." She picked up her textbook again, and passed it along to Fransisca. "Sorry, but what an earth does this mean?" Kora put on a higher, jokey voice. "'_There has been much discombobulation in the wizarding world as to the ethics of untransfigured animagi?' _What?"

Sighing, Fransisca picked up her textbook again. "Oh my god, they may as well have been writing pig latin for Merlin's sake! I didn't expect to need a thesaurus!"

Five minutes later, the hefty book was still failing to make any sense to the pair of them, and the time of lunchtime allotted to lounging on the shores of the lake was waning, and the time allotted to trekking back to the castle was shrinking before them. Kora slammed her textbook back into her back, jumped down from the branches , Fransisca following suit, and they began to dawdle back up the hill.

* * *

James didn't get Kora's reply until much later that night. She had been missing from the library during her free period, had ignored him all the way through dinner, had disappeared from the common room into the girl's dormitories so quickly that he wouldn't have notice her presence if he hadn't been looking for her. He was under no illusions that his apology had been some great speech - something worthy of forgiveness - but to just let her come around was the easiest way of normality resuming that he could think of.

Instead the Marauders passed their time in the common room drinking shots of firewhiskey - constantly hiding the bottle. James drank a lot. Sirius and Peter tried to look as though they had drank a lot. Remus drank very little, and was the authoritative voice that shoved them up the stairs at quarter to eleven.

James entered the room, let out an incredibly feminine shriek and tried to shove past the others down the stairs. Sirius let out a snort of laughter at his friend, and pushed past him into the dorm. He flumped down onto his bed, face forwards.

"For fuck's sake James!" he shouted, although his voice was a little muffled by his pillow. "There is nothing frightening up here."

From around the corner came a panicked, fast muttering - followed quickly by a translation from Peter. "Apparently there's blood all over his bed," Peter's voice was lined with skepticism.

Sirius pushed himself up, and peered through half closed eyes at his friend's bed. The sheets were perfectly clean. He leant towards the end of his bed to look at the pillow. Neatly daubed in red paint across the headboard, in a spiky sort of hand were some words - although from the angle he was at, he couldn't make them out. "Shit!" he hissed. Scrambling upwards, away from James' bed he shouted down the stairs. "You're right!" he hollered. "There is something on the bed!"

"That's what she said," smirked Peter, sauntering in. Then, his eyes caught James' headboard. "Oh god, there's is stuff on your headboard as well!"

"What does it say?" said Remus, poking his head round the door. James peered round, practically trembling. Sirius had to put it down to the firewhiskey, because he had never seen his friend look so perturbed by anything.

All eyes turned to the headboard, where the red paint was glistening against the mahogany.

_I'm sorry, but my mudblo- idiot arse doesn't feel like forgiving you. Fuck off._

_"_Well, that's friendly," said Remus, dryly as he pulled James through the door.

* * *

The second note was delivered by owl - which was a surprise to Kora, because apart from her broomstick, which was due any day now, she never got wizarding mail. Her mum wouldn't send the stuff, both Piraveena and Fransisca received the Daily Prophet and all her friends lived at Hogwarts. Last year, she had received muggle mail on two occasions, and had been asked by Professor McGonnagall if she could write back to make them stop - it was such a chore for her to personally deliver Kora's post.

So when an owl - not her owl - sent, not only her broomstick but a completely irrelevant letter crashing down onto the tabletop, it was the letter she grabbed for first.

_Kora, James is sorry. Okay? Remus_

_G_rimly, she showed Fransisca, who took it from Kora and daintily ripped it in her fingertips.

"They were good with not telling anyone," Kora shrugged. "But you have to admit, it's sort of fun watching James Potter grapple with the whole "I must be cool", and "I must not be a dick" factors!"

* * *

The second response was a fluke. Truth be told, Kora was still reveling in the power of flight which had been re-granted to her with her broomstick. After unwrapping it and taking it for a test run around the Quidditch posts, she didn't bother collecting her shoes. There would be - assuming things went according to plan - time for that later.

After Transfiguration, she had a free period. She crept back up the common room, and sat on the stairs outside the door - quickly summoning first James' shoes, then Remus', then Peter's and finally Sirius'. Tying them to her satchel by the laces, broom in hand, she walked back down to the clock tower. Having spent so many days inside the clock recently, watching the tantalising swing of her sneakers, she felt a grim satisfaction as she swooped up towards them. She leant back on her broomstick, hovering gently, as she reached inside her back and dug out the envelope. With a roll of cellotape, she stuck it to the bottom of Remus' school shoes, before suspending them from a cog which seldom moved. Next to it, she slung James, Sirius and Peter's shoes along the row, before untangling her own shoes and shoving them into her satchel.

She dive-bombed back down, watching as the stone floor got closer, and closer - relishing the adrenaline as she pulled back at the last minute. Dismounting, she took her broom in hand and scarpered upstairs to her Charms classroom, her sneakers digging into her hip as she ran.

* * *

Sirius slid down next to her at dinner. She raised an eyebrow at him, but did not move or shove him away - instead went on chewing her stuffed pepper with a disinterest too obvious to be real. Sirius had already slathered his mashed potato and sausage with onion gravy before he spoke to her. Piraveena and Fransisca were already whispering in each other's ear, practically in silent hysterics at the unlikely pairing.

"Where have our shoes gone?" he muttered, kicking her foot - clad in sneaker - under the table.

She looked at him, and glowered at James past him. "Why should I tell you?"

"Because we're mates, aren't we?"

She looked into his deep brown eyes, and could have kicked herself for the sickeningly squishy effect they had on her. She blushed a vivid pink. "Where did my shoes go?" she asked, before becoming way too attentive to Professor Dumbledore's speech about Death Eater sightings and werewolf activity and arsons in the area.

As Fransisca so wittily - but often - remarked - "It would have been interesting, if we hadn't heard it every day for the past two years."

* * *

"What does it say?" Remus took Sirius' broom, as he pushed his hair out of his eyes. Sirius passed back James' shoes, Peter's shoes and finally Remus' shoes, as he shoved his own onto his feet. As Sirius took back his broom, Remus bent over to examine tie his own shoes, before noticing - "Wait, there's something stuck to this!"

"Just pull them on," said Peter impatiently. "We'll look in the common room where the light is better."

The four Marauders pulled on James' far-too-small invisibility cloak, not worrying that everything from the thigh down was visible - but they ran into no one; only Filch, the caretaker's docile kitten, Mrs Norris. Mrs Norris' eyes followed them suspiciously down the corridor and out of sight, but no one paid her any heed. By the time the pussycat had roused her owner and had dragged the bedraggled but excited Filch to the scene, nobody was there.

Remus slumped back on an armchair - it was too late for the common room to have many occupants - and pulled his foot up for closer examination. "It's an envelope!" he proclaimed, to nobody in particular, Sirius was curling up into the chair, Peter's eyelids were firmly shut and even James was peculiarly quiet. He peeled off the cellotape. "_Remus, beaky nose out. _Well, that's pleasant," he muttered.

"What does it say?" murmured Sirius, without sounding very interested.

Remus relayed the note to the group - all of whom were fast asleep.

* * *

The last notes were a few days later, in a particularly boring Potions class. Professor Slughorn had had the laboratory cleaned, and after Filch had frisked all the students for mud on their shoes, or slightly grubby fingernails, it was announced that as Professor Dumbledore would be sitting on the following class, they would instead be enjoying a lesson of note taking.

In Sirius and Kora's case, who had been shoved together on a table for want of space - as the desks were examined for chewing gum, it took all of five seconds to turn into note passing.

_Are you mad at _me?_  
_

Kora looked over at him, and raised an eyebrow, in the tantalisingly annoying way, which so perfectly doubted his sanity.

_No_.

Sirius looked more shocked to get a response out of her that didn't involve a swear word, or paint daubed on his headboard than that she had responded at all. He smiled and nodded, before going back to taking notes on confidence potions.

It was Kora who sent the next note.

_What is the point of this, when I can get Lysandra to tell me about it during COMC? Speaking of which, are _you _avoiding _me?

_No_.

As Kora looked at him and gestured that he explain, he realised that it had been a pretty shoddy answer, and he scrambled together a second on the back of the note.

_You said to stop playing guardian angel_!

Kora cobbled together her response so quickly that Sirius barely had time to pretend he was actually working.

_Shit. Hoped you weren't going to take me up on that one._

_Why?_

_You're __good company_.

Sirius actually gaped at her. That was a complete one hundred and eighty degree turnabout.

_Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me this_ _weekend_...

Her response was immediate.

_James'll kill you. Or else Remus. Or maybe Peter. Who knows?_

_James is at Quidditch, Remus has a head boy meeting and Peter's going with Verity._

_Verity from Hufflepuff with the moustache?_

_Yup_.

She nodded, and quickly scrambled over her word as Professor Slughorn peered over their shoulders. Nodding with approval at the amount of writing he could see - although none of it was classwork, he moved on to grill the Slytherins, who apart from Snape, had done nothing.

_So, how about it? _Sirius tore the bottom of the page from his book and passed it under the table. She took the parchment, but didn't so much as look up until the end of the lesson. Feeling a sense of rejection, he slammed his textbook shut in frustration - as a piece of parchment came flittering out the top in the force he had made.

He fumbled and then caught it, opening it quickly.

_Okay :)_


	13. Something in the Air

**Thank you to SiriPheonix for giving some invaluable constructive criticism :)**

**BlueberryQuill x**

It was raining on the Saturday. Not a light spittle, but a torrential rain and wind combination that soaked through all of the students' coats, and plastered their hair to their heads. Most of the older years had bailed on the trip - only over excited third years, and a few determined others were making the journey. Kora sat outside on the step and hoped that Sirius wasn't going to blow her off because of the weather. She was also hoping that her jacket was in fact waterproof, although she couldn't be sure.

Somewhere over the forest, lightning crackled. "The term 'drowned rat' has never been so appropriate," smirked someone from behind her. She turned; expecting Sirius, but it wasn't - just James on his way to Quidditch practice. It was the first time he'd spoken to her face to face.

"Fuck off. Go play Quidditch," she said, burying her head deeper into the hood of her coat. She really didn't want to experience confrontation today. She was pretty sure she didn't want to see James Potter ever again. He gripped his broom and vanished in the direction of the Quidditch pitch.

A few seconds later, and someone poked her in the back. She jumped around, again wishing it would be Sirius and dreading that it would be a teacher dragging her inside, or worse, another Marauder with the message that Sirius wasn't coming. It was neither - instead Lily Evans nestled herself in beside Kora, and looked at her in the face. She flinched back into her hood.

"Have you seen James Potter?" she said, very quickly - making it so clear that she wouldn't be speaking to Kora if given another option.

Kora gestured vaguely towards the Quidditch pitch. "He's got practice...Quidditch practice," she said, quietly.

Lily was up like a shot, and vanished in the direction that Kora had pointed. Kora watched her auburn hair turning a dull brown as the rain hit it, with a mild disinterest. _So much for going to Hogsmeade, _thought Kora. _It wouldn't be the first time the bloody Marauders have enjoyed screwing me over. _She waited as Peter Pettigrew tiptoed past, followed by his date whose moustache was cleared than ever in the grey light - as well as at least twelve third years.

She was just beginning to consider walking back inside, and curling back into her bed - probably with a mug of tea or hot chocolate - when Sirius slumped down next to her. He grinned a boyish half-smile at her, which she returned, though slightly confused as to why she was.

"Sorry," he said. "I thought with all the rain and shit, you'd have the sense to wait inside." The line should have offended her, but he said it with a jokey voice and she had been meaning to go to Hogsmeade for ages. _And screw it, you really like Sirius, don't you? _she amended silently.

"That's okay," she smiled, standing up. Even through her hood, her hair had turned into limp rats' tails - although aside from that, her coat was holding out pretty well. "Saw Peter and his date," she grinned.

"And I bet you saw James, too?" asked Sirius, as they began to walk towards the castle perimeters. Kora shrugged, noncommittally. "You know - I could talk to him - James, I mean, for you? Because he's being a dick and I feel really bad, but I wanted to ask you-"

"Just drop it," she said, eyes dead ahead.

Sirius looked at her, or the top of her hood, which rested just above her eyes. "It does kind of make me feel like an arsehole, you know."

"Sorry," she said, her voice monotonous and dead.

"Could I at least have a reason?"

She shook her hood down off her shoulders as they passed Filch - who, in the height of Lord Voldemort's rise to power was resorting to more and more exciting ways of detecting dark goods. He didn't seem to care about that, however, as he surveyed Kora with narrowed eyes. "Third years, present to me your notes!" he said, loudly - to people in general, eyes dead on her.

"I'm seventeen," she said dryly as they walked past. As soon as they were out of earshot from the livid Filch, she looked up at Sirius - rain dripping down her face. "Alright." She paused as Sirius looked at her. "You get how things are at home for me? The way I see it, the only reason Mum would have to foster so many freaking kids, is because whatever kind of kids she wanted, I wasn't, you know? I guess it's the same for you, with, y'know. Your brother?" Sirius flinched at the mention of Regulus. "There's ten other people in my house who I'm not related to, and the only way I get noticed - or really, have any sort of worth in the family - is when I do something. I just can't afford to let other people sort out my shit for me.

Sirius looked down at Kora. He'd always known that her family wasn't the happiest - and neither was his. He'd got that. What he'd failed to realise were the little things that kept her awake at night, that explained why she'd followed the Marauders like a puppy-dog and why she spent more time than not sitting on the floor with headphones in. "That's a fucked up philosophy."

"And this is a bummer conversation for a date," she shrugged. "What do you want to do? Three Broomsticks? Zonkos? Honeydukes? Although last year Nicky Singer dragged - er, took - me to Madame Puddifoot's Teashop and I dumped him pretty soon after that. Just handy hints and tips."

Honeydukes was selected almost immediately - because it was warm and inside and the rain was hammering down all around them. Sirius slammed through the door, dragging Kora behind him. Aside from five third years in a corner, cooing over the cockroach clusters, the shop was deserted - far emptier than either had ever seen it. Kora walked over to the fizzing whizzbees, and fingered the price tag.

"Ever fed wizard sweets to muggles?" she asked him - her formerly dejected face grinning with impish naughtiness.

"No!" gasped Sirius in mock horror. "That would break the statute of secrecy, and I didn't peg you for a juvenile delinquent."

"Oh no?" she smiled, pulling her hair into bunches with her hands. "Yes marmee," she struck up. "I'm a perfect ickle student!" She picked one up, and put it down again - sucking the sherbet off her fingers. "I used to impress Brianna so much - but she moved out last year," she tacked on, and shrugged. "Anything you want?"

Sirius began to peruse the shelves, picking two jellybeans off a display. One was puss yellow, the other a soft and minty green. He popped the green one in his mouth, and passed the yellow one to Kora - who sniffed hers suspiciously before snaffling her up. Sirius screwed up his face - his attractive features distorted - he gulped, and grimaced at her. She rolled hers around her mouth before biting it in half and swallowing.

"Avocado," he groaned, by way of explanation.

"Custard," she said, smiling smugly.

The pattering of rain grew louder as the door swung open, inviting another twelve third years into the shop. "Shall we go?" said Sirius, looking at the bright lights on the other side of the street. "Fancy a butterbeer?"

"Sure," said Kora, bracing herself as they ventured out into the rain.

As they walked deeper into the village, signs of the wizarding war raging outside of the school became evident. Wanted posters covered the walls, three Ministry officials patrolled the main road, and several of the shops were boarded up. As they passed a particularly shady avenue, a Dementor glided out of the shadows, pursued by a Ministry worker with a raven patronus. Despite the protective patronus charm, Kora leapt towards Sirius, who in turn leapt towards her. She grabbed his arm, tightly, as it floated out of sight.

She didn't let go until they reached The Three Broomsticks, where she shoved open the door with both hands and walked inside. The pub was heaving with students - all of them younger years - and aside from that, there were very few customers. A few adults, it appeared, were taking refuge in a few shadowy tables in the far corner. Kora gestured in their direction, shrugged, and they began to shove their way through the crowds.

It was a challenge, getting past the other students, most of whom had not found seats and were instead loitering around the tables, drinks in hand. Kora kept her head down, squeezing amongst them, until they found a brief respite in chairs furthest from the fire. Here, several adults - most of them Ministry workers on break - were nursing hot drinks - were clustered around tables, talking in hushed voices and looking somewhat nervously around them. It was evident that the security students felt in Hogwarts did not extend at all to the outside world.

Sirius surveyed all the tables - before his eyes landed on one in the far corner, with only one occupant. "How does that look?" he asked Kora, who shrugged, and then walked over.

"Excuse me," she said, just loudly enough to be heard. "Could we sit here?"

The stranger grunted affirmative, and she slumped down into her seat. The stranger looked up at her, and smiled. "Hey baby," he purred, revealing teeth a tiny bit too long and sharp to be entirely human. "What's your blood type?"

Sirius bristled and was all set to get up and go sit at the bar, or stand if it came to it - but Kora just giggled, and turned around to him - where the shadowy figure looked over her head at him, in surprise. "Best chat-up line ever!" she whispered, before turning back.

"AB negative," she smiled back at the hooded person, undoing her jacket and slowly, almost sensually trailing her fingers across her neck. "Bet you don't see many people like that round these parts?"

"No," agreed the stranger, licking their lips with a vivid red, snake-like tongue.

"Such a shame for you that I need my blood then," she said sympathetically. "And I mean _all _of it. Fucking anemia."

Having had her fun taunting what was probably a vampire, she turned back to Sirius and grinned. The person on the other side scowled in her direction, and downed his glass of vodka and pepper-up potion in one. Kora wriggled out of her coat - Sirius doing likewise - and sat on it. Her tshirt was faded, and it took Sirius a minute to make out what it said.

"Who are The Sex Pistols?" he said, after a moment. "What is a sex pi-"

"They're a band. A muggle band," she said, looking down at the design. "You might like them. Aren't you into _Defodio _and their stuff?"

Sirius looked at her for a long second - wondering where she'd heard that and why she had even bothered to notice. "Uh, yeah, I am," he said, a beat late.

The person who walked up to the bar to serve them was not Madame Rosmerta - the young hearthrob of whom most of the Hogwarts boys nurtured a crush - to Kora's relief. Instead, a rather tall, stringy sort of person served them, with a strong Irish accent. Kora ordered hot chocolate - which came with piles of whipped cream and shaved chocolate on top, and Sirius ordered a butterbeer, which had caramel swirls in the froth on top.

As Kora licked the foam from her lips, she grinned at Sirius. "You hear that?" she said, a girlish smile in her eyes.

"No," he said in surprise looking around. He cocked his head and listened.

"It's clear outside," she sat up and peered through the window, smiling girlishly. "It's actually looking kind of sunny!"

Pulling their coats back on, they walked back up to the castle, sharing a secret grin as they passed a twitterpated Peter Pettigrew.

"Must be something in the air," smiled Kora, as she disappeared into the girls' dormitory.


End file.
